Into the Fire
by AllThingsInsane
Summary: Sequel to "Ashes to Ashes." As if their lives hadn't already been rocked enough by the death of their beloved Jim Murphy, Dean and Caleb receive the shock of their lives when the demon threatening their family, makes his next move, and this time, it could have potentially devastating consequences on all of them.
1. Chapter 1

"Where is he?"

_That's of no concern to you anymore—you'll never see Sammy again_. The stranger laughed cruelly, as though he was greatly enjoying the pain he was inflicting on Caleb, and not to mention, the little boy he had taken as his hostage.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, feeling sick, Caleb leaned against the wall for support as he tried to angle his words in a way so that the demon wouldn't feel threatened, wouldn't feel the need to cut their conversation short prematurely.

"Please," Caleb said, trying to breathe through the intense guilt he was feeling. "Don't hurt him. He's just a _child_, please don't do anything to him."

It was his fault—the entire situation. If he hadn't jumped the gun on returning home to Minnesota with the boys, the demon wouldn't have seized his opportunity to grab Sam while he was on a field trip, and they wouldn't be in this terrifying position right then.

_He'll be trained to hone the skills that I ensured he had when I fed him my blood that night in his nursery._

"You're-"

The same demon that had been responsible for the grisly murders of Jim, and before that, the boys' mother. Feeling a new sensation of hatred and anger burn like lava through his veins, he sucked in a deep breath, desperately trying _not _to make the situation worse.

_I am, and now I've come to take him to his rightful place._

"_What_?"

Not that demons made such sense to begin with, but this demon took the cake for that. It was all too much for Caleb, who was starting to feel dizzy as he took a seat on one of the kitchen chairs.

_He'll be trained to fight in the war that's been a thousand years in the making. And when all is said and done, if he succeeds in the task that he will be given, there will be immeasurable awards for him, and for the people that he holds dear._

"What _war_?" Caleb snapped. "And how do you expect a child to fight in an adult situation?"

_You better watch your tone, or I'll just forgo the entire idea, and kill him. Like I did with Jim Murphy, and precious little Mary Winchester. Whatever happens to Sam, it's on you._

"You listen to me," Caleb said, his voice shaking with pure rage. "If you hurt him, if you make him do anything he doesn't want to do, I'll kill you. I will tear you apart, so help me!"

_Don't mess with events that have been in place since before the child was even born—you didn't heed my warnings when I killed Jim, and when I paid little Sammy a visit in the middle of the night. You should have left well enough alone, and let me do my job uninterrupted._

"I don't care-"

_If you leave me to do my work, your family will remain unharmed. If you try to interfere, someone else will pay the price._

"I thought—I thought this wasn't supposed to happen until he was an adult!"

_Yes, well, I realize I had to downgrade a little bit, but that's through no fault of mine. You and the others were getting into his head, softening him and making him blab about what I had come to speak with him about. With you and your family out of the picture, he'll be raised to be brave and strong and not like some pansy, and then when the time is right, he'll be ready to assume his position as leader in my army._

"You son of a bitch," Caleb said, through gritted teeth. "You son of a-"

_If you would like to say goodbye to him, I'd control that tongue of yours._

"What-"

_If you want to say goodbye to him, you have five minutes._

"Put him on," Caleb said, wracking his brain for a way that he could speak to Sam, and have him give the crucial information he needed to give him, without the demon knowing what they were doing. It wasn't like they had ever gone over what they would do if one of them was being held hostage by a demon, and the demon suddenly grew a heart and let them speak to each other.

_C-Caleb_," Sam said, his terrified little voice coming on over the connection. It had seemed to take an eternity to hear his voice, to know for sure that he was alright for the moment, but when Caleb finally heard him, all he wanted to do was protect him from this, and he couldn't.

Not yet.

Not until he knew more of what he was dealing with, and what steps to take.

"Sammy," Caleb said, struggling to keep his voice even so he wouldn't scare him any more than he was already scared. "I'm right here, buddy, I'm right here. You're going to be okay."

_I-I'm scared. I want to go home. Please come and get me!_

If only Sam could know how those words gutted Caleb, because there was nothing he could do until he knew where he was being held, and how far it was from there.

"I'm coming, Sam, I'm coming as soon as I can. I promise you that. But right now, I need you to answer some questions, alright?"

_Okay_," he cried.

"I don't want the demon knowing what we're doing, okay? So I need you to answer yes or no only, do you understand?"

_Yes._

Closing his eyes against the nausea he felt, Caleb tried to think of questions that would be easy for Sam to answer in that format only, and his options were limited, he knew that. Especially with the demon presumably watching every word Sam uttered to him.

"Are you still here in Minnesota?"

_Yes._

_That _was something—it narrowed the search down considerably, and it made it easier for Caleb to begin guessing where to look. If he could only ask him a few more critical questions, he would have that much of a better chance of finding him.

"Are you in a house?"

_No. _

"Are you in a warehouse or barn—type of structure?"

_Yes._

The next question would be the hardest one for him to ask, and he was dreading hearing the answer, as he brought his two fingers up to his eyes to squeeze the moisture away. "Are you hurt?"

_No. Just some cuts and bruises. _

Cuts and bruises was good—he could live with that. As long as Sam was okay, for the most part, and hadn't received any life threatening injuries from being taken, he could live with that, and have some of the immediate panic alleviated.

"Are you tied?"

_I w—was_, Sam said, and then he began to cry. _I don't want to be tied anymore, Caleb, please don't let him do that to me anymore!_

Feeling a single tear slide down his face, he tried squeezing it away to no avail. It was scary enough having the demon in the area, and then to find out that it had snatched Sam? It was horrifying, and to hear the fear and the pleading in his voice, for Caleb to rescue him from his torment, was about more than he could bear.

"Sam," Caleb said, his voice thick. "I know you're scared, but you have to listen, okay?"

_O—okay. _

"You have to listen to whatever the demon tells you to do," Caleb said, "even if it scares you. We can't give him a reason to do anything, okay?"

_I don't want-_

"I know," Caleb said, "but until I find you, we have to make sure that you're kept safe."

Caleb had no idea how best to coach the terrified nine-year-old, and was doing his best just to wing it, as he tried to work through _both _of their fears at the same time.

_Okay. Florida_, Sam said tearfully, using their code word for "hurry."

"I will," Caleb said soothingly, trying to say anything to bring comfort to him. "Do you know what we're going to do when we get you home?"

_What?_

"We're going to watch a movie," Caleb said, wracking his brain to think of the one movie that Sam had begged to watch for years. "What's the one movie that we have never let you see before?"

_P-P-Poltergeist_, Sam said, crumbling again.

"That's right—and we're going to watch that. We're going to be in the living room, we're going to build a fort together, and the three of us are going to camp out with buttered popcorn and all the fatty foods you can imagine."

He could almost see the smile that graced Sam's face, and he was glad that he had been able to reach that part of him that would be excited about doing something he had never been allowed to do before.

_Can—can we have ice cream with sprinkles on it?_

"You bet," Caleb said. "We're going to have an awesome time."

_Dean likes Poltergeist._

"I know he does," Caleb said with a smile, "and he'll be excited to show that movie to you. I know _I _am."

Even though their real lives were full of daily danger and horrors, they had somehow thought of drawing the line when the kids watched horror movies. In their minds, they already lived enough horror without having to dream about it later on.

Dean, at thirteen, was old enough to watch most of the horror movies that were out there, but with Sam, they had limited the amount of horror and thrills he had been allowed to watch. But once they got him back safely, he would be willing to make an exception.

_Tell me something funny. _

"Remember when you got butter on your head?"

_No. Why did I have butter on my head?_

"There was a tray of butter on the table," Caleb said, smiling at the memory that it presented. "And we left you alone for a few minutes. You were in your high chair, and you reached foreword and you grabbed a chunk of that butter and you smeared that crap _all _over your head," Caleb said with a laugh. "You were smiling like you had accomplished the greatest thing in the world."

_What did you guys do? _Sam asked with a laugh.

"We threw you in the tub, and hosed you off. You weren't too happy about that."

_I bet. He's making me hang up, _Sam said.

"We're coming, Sammy," Caleb said. "Hold on, dude."

_I hope you enjoyed that little chit-chat, _the demon said. _Because it's the last you'll have with Sammy._

"We'll see about that."

* * *

_This is the sequel to "Ashes to Ashes." I hope you enjoy! _

_And thank you for all the support you have given these series of stories. It has been one of the greatest writing experiences I have ever had, and I thank you for all the encouraging words you have continued to offer me. _

_Thank you!_

_-Casey_

_2/3/14_


	2. Chapter 2

Hearing the terror in Sam's voice.

Hearing the pleading in his tone for Caleb to come and rescue him. It had been about more than Caleb could bear, as he struggled to comfort him through the phone, and do his best to assure him that he would be there as fast as he humanly could.

But there were other things to consider, and that was what he hated the most. It wasn't like he could jump up and magically find the place where Sam had been taken. The information Sam had provided him, had helped, but it wasn't a definitive location, and that was what was frustrating for him.

The demon could be doing any number of things to him, and he was powerless to stop it until he could know for sure where he was, and what angle to best approach it from. The demon had told Caleb that, instead of waiting for Sam to mature into an adult before activating his plans, he had jumped the gun and had started them then, because of what Sam had let slip to his brother and Caleb.

A nine-year-old in an adult situation—the very worst, too, and he was powerless to stop this from happening to him. He would have to rely on his guardian's to know where he was, and to rescue him from this unthinkable situation.

The very same demon that had been responsible for the horrific murders of his mother and Jim, was now the very same demon that had kidnapped him, taken him to an unknown location, and mercifully allowed him those precious few moments to talk with Caleb.

But now their conversation had been cut short—and Caleb was at a loss as to where to start the unbelievably difficult task of figuring out where Sam had been hidden. The demon wasn't an idiot, and would probably have stored him somewhere where Caleb and whoever went with him, would have a hard time finding..

Once Caleb had managed to push past the initial waves of panic and urgency, his first move was to call Bobby in Sioux Falls. The experienced, older hunter would know more about what their first moves should be than he would know, and he would need the extra support he would be guaranteed from having him in on this.

Heaving a deep sigh as he squeezed more of the irksome tears away, he dialed the number that he knew by heart, and waited for what seemed like an eternity before Bobby finally answered on the final ring.

_Hello?_

"Bobby," Caleb said, slumping against the wall in relief, as he struggled to keep himself upright. "I—I have a situationhere."

_Are the boys okay?_

It was the first question on either of their minds whenever a "situation" arose, and it was the one thing that Caleb dreaded telling him. The boys were the center of their worlds, the two people that they strove to protect from this harmful, dangerous world that they had been forced to be raised in.

"It's Sam," Caleb explained, his voice tight. "The demon took him."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. It seemed to take forever before Bobby finally responded, and when he finally did, his voice sounded just as wrecked as Caleb's did.

_Are you sure it's the one that-_

"That killed Jim and their mother? Yes, I'm sure. It made contact."

_The demon did?_

"Yes," Caleb said, trying to breathe through the panic he was feeling. The adrenaline was coursing through his veins, compelling him to go out and search, but he knew he couldn't until he had all the facts, and until he learned from Bobby what _he _thought they should do.

_What did he say?_

"He just," Caleb said, laughing somewhat hysterically. "Informed me that I would never see Sam again, and that he was going to use him as a pawn in his stupid war."

_Do you have a location?_

"not really—the demon let me speak with Sam, but he wasn't able to give me enough to actually go and look somewhere."

_You spoke with Sam?_

"For a few minutes—enough to tear my heart out. They're not in a home, they're in a barn or warehouse type of place."

_Has he been hurt?_

"Nothing but cuts and bruises."

_Good. Listen, see if you can locate a list of all the businesses and privately-owned barns in the area, and I'll be there by tonight._

"Thank you."

Not that he had had any doubt that Bobby would come immediately when it concerned the boys, but he was still grateful to hear that verbal confirmation that backup would soon be there to aide him

_Where's Dean?_

"He should be home any second," Caleb said, glancing over at the clock. "And I have _no _idea how I am supposed to inform him that his brother is gone."

_You just give it to him honestly like you've always done. _

"You're right—thank you," Caleb said. "Just get here."

_I'm on my way._

Hanging up with him, Caleb heaved a sigh as he pulled the phone book toward him, hoping to get some information about the local businesses and farms in the area, that the demon could be using to hide out with Sam.

He doubted it would be that easy—the demon would know their patterns when it came to hunting and identifying areas of interest. If the demon really wanted to hide Sam, it would be craftier than a normal demon, and would know to go deep in order to avoid being detected.

After writing down some potential businesses and farms of interest, he abandoned the daunting task, as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes watering from pure exhaustion, as he glanced over at the clock again.

Dean would be home anytime now, and he was trying to formulate a general idea of what he would say to him once he walked through those doors. There was no _gentle _way of breaking the news to him that his brother had been kidnapped by a demon, and not just any demon, either.

The one that had been responsible for carrying out the vicious murders of Jim and his mother. He could only imagine the devastation and pain that Dean would go through once he found out that his brother was the latest victim in this ugly and confusing period.

Before he could contemplate any more of what to say to the thirteen-year-old, the door leading into the garage was thrown open, and in came Dean. Even though he claimed to hate school, there _were _perks to it that he couldn't deny: being able to see his friends, going to certain game clubs they had on certain nights, and being able to get out of the house for a few hours.

"Hey," Caleb said, forcing a neutral expression on his face. "How was it?"

"Same," Dean said, with a shrug as he slid out of his school sweatshirt. "Nothing out of the ordinary, except that the classes?" Dean said, as he grabbed a handful of food. "Might have actually gotten _more _boring."

"How are you _ever _going to survive?" Caleb joked weakly, trying to stall the inevitable as long as possible.

"I don't know," Dean moaned mock-seriously. "Where's Sam?"

The first question on his lips when his little brother wasn't in the immediate vicinity. If only he knew what was about to fall on his already crowded shoulders, when Caleb revealed the horrible truth to him.

"Um," Caleb said, struggling to meet his hazel gaze. "You better sit down, dude."

"What's...going...on?" Dean asked slowly, nervously, as he slid into the chair that Caleb had requested. "What _aren't _you telling me, Caleb?"

He knew there was _something _wrong—just from the way that Caleb was acting, and how his little brother was nowhere to be seen, when usually he was front and center in whatever they were doing that afternoon.

Swallowing back the unexpected lump in the back of his throat, he waited impatiently for Caleb to get up the guts to tell him what was going on. Foolishly, perhaps, he hoped that there was nothing wrong, that he was overreacting about nothing.

"A little while ago, I got a call from someone," Caleb said, placing his hand over the crook of Dean's arm.

_That _was unusual—while they were never shy about showing affection toward one another, it was unusual that Caleb would choose that time to show it unless someone _was _wrong, and he was trying to soften the blow.

"Who called?" Dean whispered, surprised at how uncertain and freaked his voice sounded. "What's going _on_?"

"The demon," Caleb said, forcibly meeting his questioning gaze. "The demon called me, and told me that he had Sammy," he said softly.

"_What_," Dean said, his breath catching in his throat, as he stared at Caleb. "Please tell me you're not serious. Please!"

"You have no idea," Caleb said, shaking his head as the tears that he couldn't even push away if he could, came to his eyes. "How much I wish I was joking, but I'm not, Dean."

"You have to be," Dean said, as a single, salty tear slid down his cheek. "Because that would mean the demon that killed Jim and our Mom, has him."

"He does, Dean," Caleb said, feeling a tear of his own slide down his cheek. "I talked to him."

"To who?"

"To Sammy."

"You talked to _Sam_?" Dean asked, feeling his heart break all over again. "How is he?" he said, feeling his voice break for what his little brother must be going through, and knowing that he was powerless to stop it.

"He's scared," Caleb said honestly, as he reached foreword and pulled Dean into a hug, knowing that Dean needed all the comfort he could get, even if he didn't think so at the time. "But he's okay _physically _for the moment."

Dean nodded, though that did little to comfort him. The fact that his brother had been kidnapped by _the _demon, the one responsible for the killings of Jim and his mother, was absolutely terrifying, and he was powerless to stop the tears that cascaded down his face, as small sobs ripped their way through his system.

"No—no, he can't be there. We—we h—have to find him," he cried, struggling to speak through the thick tears that had clogged his senses.

"We will," Caleb assured him. "Believe me, if I knew where he was for sure? I'd be there in a heartbeat, but we don't know right now, Dean."

"What else did he say?"

He hated himself for the fact that he hadn't been there to speak with him, to offer him some brotherly advice and love, and maybe, if possible, bring a smile to his face.

"I asked him to give me some information about where he was, and I was able to get at least _some _idea of where to start, but nothing concrete yet."

Dean shook his head, feeling sick, as he tried to process the impossible fact that his bubbly and vibrant little brother, was now in the hands of the very last person (or demon) that he wanted him to be in contact with.

"What does the demon want?" Dean asked through tears, as he pulled back from Caleb.

"He wants to use him in some war," Caleb said, shaking his head. "From what Sam told us, this wasn't supposed to happen until he was an adult."

"Why _now?_" Dean asked incredulously. "He's a _kid_!"

And that was the hardest fact for them to accept—Sam was a child, who had still miraculously managed to retain some of his original innocence before he had learned of all the darkness that lived in secret around him.

He wasn't a killer; he wasn't a solider to be used as a pawn in a war that none of them understood. It was dizzying, it was horrifying, and it completely shattered Dean, as he tried his hardest to remain strong, to not break down, even though his efforts were mostly futile.

"Supposedly," Caleb said. "It's a punishment—he's punishing us—pushing _Sam _because he told us about those visits."

"I never should have pushed him to tell us about those dreams," Dean said, shaking his head in self-disgust. "What the hell is _wrong _with me?"

"Dean," Caleb said, "there's nothing _wrong _with you. We needed to know what he was keeping from us, and you got it from him. We needed to know this, Dean. Please don't blame yourself, because it's _not _on you."

Dean nodded shakily, as he brought one trembling hand up to his face to wipe the tears away. "What are we doing to find him?"

"He described being in a barn or warehouse type of structure. I'm starting there, looking through all the businesses and privately owned farms that he could be at. If we can, we'll narrow it down as far as we can, and look at each one."

Dean nodded. "Tonight?"

"As soon as I get something reliable. Bobby's going to be here in a few hours."

"Good."

As much as Dean was beyond comfort then, it would be a relief to have Bobby arrive and help them figure out what to do next in searching for the missing nine-year-old.

"We'll find him, Dean."


	3. Chapter 3

Patience had never been a virtue for Dean, but right then it was virtually none-existent, as he paced a lengthy hoe in the hardwood floor in the kitchen, as he ran a hand through his hair for the millionth time, simply trying to find _something _to occupy the time that he had to agonize over his little brother, and what he could be going through.

He had been so happy that morning—it was the first day back at school for many, after a series of snow storms had blocked off school that week, and most of the kids had been more than thrilled to escape the confines of home, and see their friends. It had also fallen on the first day of game club where a group of kids stayed after to interact socially, and compete with each other.

It had been one of the first games Dean had attended since Jim's death, and while the old wounds from his death, were still there, still as present as ever, it had been nice to just kick back and relax, and let all the worries fall off his shoulders for one afternoon.

Of course that had all ended as soon as he stepped foot through the door, and had been informed by a devastated Caleb that his little brother was gone, kidnapped by the killer responsible for the deaths of his mother eight years ago, and Jim, only a few months previously.

Now he wished that he had never gone to that game club, and had instead been home to aide Caleb in his search for Sam. Their clues were scarce—the demon wasn't an idiot, and would have done his homework when scouting out a secure location to hide him.

Somewhere off the grid, somewhere that no one would think of to search. His little brother could be anywhere on the face of the planet, and what was even more terrifying, was that the demon could be doing any number of things to him, and they were absolutely powerless to stop it until they found a for sure location to track him to.

"Is this my fault?" Dean asked for the hundredth time, as he looked over Caleb's shoulder as he wrote down some names and addresses for possible inspection.

"No," Caleb said, pausing in his work to glance up at the stricken thirteen-year-old. "Dean, _stop_ blaming yourself. This is _not _your fault. Stop blaming yourself, dude," he said, his tone softening, as he looked at the pain that was written across his face.

It was hardwired into his DNA to worry about his little brother. Caleb realized that, but he also hoped that he would at least _attempt _to shove back the thick wall of grief and anger that he was directing at himself, and look at the facts for what they were.

"How could it _not _be?" Dean countered incredulously. "I pushed him-" he began, pointing at himself.

"You pushed him to tell us because there could be something potentially lethal going on," Caleb said. "We _needed _to know, Dean, so we could be prepared in case something like _this _happened."

"And now it has!" Dean said, shaking his head angrily. "I can't believe he's gone, too!"

"What do you mean?" Caleb said, as he finally stopped Dean's frantic pacing across the floor, by grabbing his arm and making him sit down next to him. "Talk to me and give the floor a little break."

Dean smiled halfheartedly. "It's just..." he said, trailing off. "First Jim, and now _Sam_?" he said, as thick tears made a river down his face. "When is it ever going to _stop_? When are we going to stop losing the people that we love?"

At thirteen, he had suffered through more loss and heartache than anyone twice his age, and this was the latest in a series of attacks on his family, that he hadn't even had time to process, let alone learn how to deal with.

"We haven't lost Sam, Dean," Caleb said gently. "We lost Jim, Dean, and that's something we're _all _trying to come to grips with still. But we haven't lost our family. We still have our bonds, we still have the people in our lives that we love and trust, don't we?"

"Yes," Dean said miserably. "But who knows? Maybe tomorrow it will be Sam that we lose, and then maybe next week something will happen to you!"

"Dean, _nothing _will happen to me," Caleb assured him. "I promise-"

"Don't," Dean said, shaking his head, as he tried to breathe through the panic he was feeling. "Don't promise me something you can't keep, Caleb."

"I'm not, Dean. I promise I don't plan on going anywhere _ever_."

"If something happens to either of you," Dean said, "I won't survive. I literally _won't_."

For as long as he could remember, he had shared a loving and close relationship with Caleb. The two told each other everything, and were sometimes honest to a fault with one another. If something ever happened to Caleb, too, he couldn't see how he would make it.

Same with Sam.

He had literally carried his little brother out of the fire, and ever since then, had naturally assumed it was his role to take care of his brother, and make sure he was well taken care of. If that was taken away from him, he wasn't sure what he would do with himself.

"You won't have to worry about it, Dean," Caleb assured him. "I don't ever lie to you, do I?"

"No, but what if you can't help it?"

"Then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now, I need you to replace those thoughts with something else. Remember me teaching you how to channel those negative thoughts?"

"Yes."

" I'm always here to talk to you and listen, but you need to replace that with something positive, with something _good_."

Dean nodded, inhaling another deep breath, before forcibly shoving as much of the negativity as he could in order to refocus his efforts on finding his little brother alive. Leaning over the list of names and numbers, he tried to connect the dots in order to make a pattern, anything to go on when it came to searching.

"So what are we doing to find him?" he asked after a moment.

"We're going to look at all the businesses and farms in the area, and check them all off."

"Okay, but what if the demon knows what we're doing, and moves him?"

That had been a very real concern of all of theirs, and one that they hadn't entirely been able to shove back, either, as they got deeper and deeper in their efforts.

"Right now, we have no evidence that they moved," Caleb said, looking up to meet his frantic gaze. "And if they do, we'll keep on the trail. I'm also going to try to trace the number that the demon called from, and hope to get a match."

"What about these farms?" Dean asked, pointing down at the names that Caleb had written down.

Each name on the list, each farm, was a potential lead and one that they absolutely had to look into to either rule out definitively, or investigate further.

"I'm going to first call the numbers, and see if any of them are disconnected. If they are, chances are it's been abandoned and could be being used by the demon."

"Right," Dean said slowly, as his eyebrows scrunched together as he focused. "What about the ones that have a _working_ number?"

"Then we'll go from there. The businesses will be trickier. There are a dozen of warehouse type of businesses and privately owned places, and the demon could be using any of those."

"And having people being possessed to fend off any stragglers like us," Dean said, shaking his head in disbelief. "So what are we going to do?"

"We'll look into all of them, see what we come up with."

It would be a long process, and the results wouldn't be guaranteed, but it was the only hope they had of possibly finding the place where Sam had been taken to.

"Okay," Dean said uncertainly, as he bit down on the end of his thumb.

"Dean," Caleb said, "it will be okay. If you don't believe it yourself, trust me, okay?"

"Okay."

Bobby arrived a few hours later—while his presence was a welcome relief to Dean, it didn't alleviate any of the fears that plagued his heart, and it didn't make him feel any better about the impossible situation they were in, as he listened closely to what Bobby and Caleb were discussing.

"I tried these numbers," Caleb said, pointing down at the few that he had circled. "And they were all disconnected. I put a trace out for the number that the demon called from, and it's from around this place."

"So suss that out first?" Bobby said, as he adjusted his trucker cap.

"Yeah. It's our first and best possible lead," Caleb said, scrubbing a hand over his face tiredly. "We'll go from there if it's not viable anymore."

"Okay."

"Can I go?" Dean asked.

The thought of spending hours alone in the house while they went out and searched for his lost brother, was absolutely horrific to him, as he glanced eagerly back and forth between his guardian and Bobby.

"Right now, I don't see why not," Caleb said carefully. "But if it comes to anything like a showdown or anything like that, you have to follow our lead and you have to listen to my orders."

"I know."

It was something that Caleb had worked hard with Dean on—even if his instincts were telling him something else, if one of his guardians issued him a direct order, he was to follow it without question, trusting that they knew more than he about a particular situation.

"Alright," Caleb said. "You might want to carry this in case, okay?" he said, passing off a silver handgun to him.

"Thanks," Dean said, as he took the gun carefull.

"Yeah—what's the first thing you do?" Caleb asked, watching him carefully as he put on his coat.

"Make sure the safety is on," Dean said, as he effortlessly checked to make sure it was safe for him to tuck in the back of his jeans

"And why's that?"

"So I don't accidentally shoot myself in the ass," Dean said with a slow grin.

"You bet."

"You guys ready?" Bobby asked, already at the door.

"Yes," Caleb said, as he and Dean traded anxious glances with the other.

* * *

From past experiences in similar instances, Dean knew better than to anticipate a miraculous outcome. It was hard to live like that, but too much had happened for Dean to get his hopes up as they drove toward the first spot they would search.

"You doing okay, kid?" Bobby asked, from the front seat.

"I guess."

"We'll be there soon," Caleb said, as he glanced anxiously at all the passing scenery, willing the car foreword faster, as he brought his hand up to his chin.

"I know," Dean replied, as he nervously tapped his foot against the bottom of the seat.

"Make sure you have your gun," Bobby warned, as they approached the farmhouse.

"I know," Dean said, his hand already fastened around the door, ready to jump out as soon as his guardians did.

When he was given the go-ahead, he didn't waste a single second, as they immediately made their way to the barn in question.

"Be careful," Caleb warned, looking down at Dean.

"I know."


	4. Chapter 4

"Watch your step," Caleb warned, as they carefully explored the property that Caleb had scouted. It had been one of the first addresses that had come up, after a thorough search by Caleb, of the local phonebook. It wasn't a certain lead, but it was the closest address that had come up from the trace that Caleb had put out for the number the demon had called from.

"I know," Dean said, nodding, as he swallowed back convulsively. "I will," he said, as he reflexively tightened his grip around the handgun that he had hid behind him in his jeans.

"Alright. Be sure to look for anything that the demon might have left behind, if he isn't here now."

"Okay."

It was unthinkable to Dean that Sam _wouldn't _be there—he had to be—because if he_ wasn't_, that would mean the demon had gotten wind of their plans, and had moved him to another location, one that would be even more difficult to track.

"Do you want to split up?" Bobby asked, as he looked back at the two-story farmhouse behind them. "I can cover the house, and you two can investigate the barn?"

"Yeah," Caleb said, nodding in the affirmative. "Sounds good."

They would be able to cover more ground that way, and have more of a chance of finding joint evidence that would lead them to a more firm conclusion. While splitting up in an unfamiliar setting was never something that they were comfortable with, they also realized that they needed to quickly explore the property in case someone showed up, or the demon had one of his cronies out scouting the area.

"Alright. Meet back here in ten?"

"Yeah," Caleb said, as he gripped Dean's shoulder. "You ready, kiddo?" he asked softly, seeing the impatient look on Dean's face, as though he couldn't wait to step foot inside the place where his brother was probably being held.

"Yeah, let's go."

Nodding, Caleb carefully eased open the double doors that shielded the inside of the barn from the outside, and stepped inside. It was dark inside, the only source of light came from a series of boarded up windows that were still able to stream some sunlight through the cracks.

"Guns out," Caleb whispered, as he produced his own gun from behind him.

"Okay," Dean whispered, as his keen and observant eyes peered over every inch of the barn, hoping that it would hold some sort of clue as to where his brother was, and what was happening to him.

As he weighed the feel of the smooth gun in his hands, he held it the way that Caleb had always taught him, as he followed Caleb's lead.

"Look for any sulfur, or any evidence that the demon has been here," Caleb said, looking behind him in the limited amount of lighting they had, to look at the thirteen-year-old.

"I know," Dean said, his breath involuntarily catching in his throat, but he was quickly realizing that there was nothing of substance to find. Either their lead had been dead, or the demon had realized they were coming, and had made a quick run for it.

"Dean," Caleb said, as he walked around a corner that housed a large tractor. "Look."

Inching himself closer, Dean looked down to where Caleb was pointing, and felt his heart sink into his stomach, as a sob quickly found its way up from the deepest, darkest parts of him to find root in his throat, as he looked down at the mess of ropes and sulfur that had been tangled up together.

Had his brother been there?

Had the demon tied him up there?

And where were they now?

"Could that have been where Sam-" Dean started to say, voicing the horrific thoughts that had quickly found their home in his conscience.

"I don't know," Caleb said, his voice tight as he blinked back tears. "Probably, Dean," he said, as he pulled the traumatized teen close.

"Why?" Dean said, voicing the question that had been on his mind since their whole ordeal had begun. "Why is this happening?"

"I don't know, Dean," Caleb said, rubbing his shoulder. "I don't know, but we have to pick ourselves up, and we have to keep going."

"I know," Dean said, as he bowed his head to attempt to shield the thick tears of disappointment that had cascaded down his face. "I just wanted him to be here."

"I know, bud, I wanted it, too, but we were so close."

"And that's what makes it so hard," Dean sobbed, as he allowed Caleb to give him a comforting hug. "He didn't do anything to deserve this, Caleb."

"I know, I know," Caleb soothed, as he rubbed soothing circles in his back. "I know, dude, I know. Shh, shh, shh," he said gently, as he tried to induce any amount of calm that he could, even though he knew that Dean was beyond that at the moment.

"What's that?" Dean asked, breaking apart from Caleb when his eyes picked up something that had been tangled inside the mess of ropes and sulfur. "Is that-"

"Blood," Caleb quietly confirmed, closing his eyes against the sudden rush of nausea and dizziness that was assaulting his senses, as tears sprang to the corners of his eyes.

"And some hair," Dean said, shaking his head, trying to rid himself of the horrible thoughts that were filling his subconscious. It looked bad, it _was _bad, but he refused to turn himself over to them completely, until he could be sure of the impossible.

"Dean," Caleb said, seeing the heartbroken look on his face, "don't think what I think you're thinking," he said carefully. "We don't know-"

"It's him," Dean said, raising a shaking hand up to his face to attempt to rid himself of the tears that were so close to coming back to the surface. "How could it _not _be?"

And that horrible to him—there was blood that he was sure was his brother's, and a few prominent hair strands. It was a visible clue to what his brother had gone through as the demon's captive, and what he must _still _be going through at that moment.

All he wanted, more than anything, was to be able to hold his brother in his arms. Tell him that it would be okay, that they were on the way, but it was impossible. At least, Dean thought, as he tried to comfort himself, at least Caleb had been able to speak with him, soothe him in a time of unimaginable terror for the nine-year-old, and assure him they were on their way.

"Let's go," Caleb said, his voice cracked. "Let's go back home and start over, okay?"

"Yeah," Dean said, nodding. "Alright."

* * *

The last conscious memory Sam had before the demon had knocked him and out dragged him to that barn, was walking across the parking lot with his classmates and teachers, who had organized and supervised the outing. Then, in a literal blink of an eye, the demon (and one of his cronies) had dragged him kicking and screaming away from his stunned teachers and friends, and had sped off in an unmarked, un-licensed getaway car.

Sam had fought so hard-both while he was in the car and after, when they were transferring him to the barn, that they had eventually knocked him out, believing that it was the only way to get him under control, which they were _right_. Caleb had only been working with him for a few months, but already Sam possessed an impressive array of fighting skills, and more importantly, had memorized exactly what he was supposed to do in a situation like the one he was in right then.

But unfortunately, when he had been knocked out, the demons had taken full advantage of that unfortunate fact, and had tied him to a pole in the barn that they had chosen as their hideout. When he had first awoken from the deep sleep he had been forced into, his first thoughts had been confusion, followed by a deep pain, as he tried to reach a blind hand to cradle the wound in his head.

When he couldn't move his hands, he panicked. He was only nine, a child, and for him not to be able to move, was terrifying for him, as he struggled against the thick ropes that had been used to bind his hands together.

"You better give it up," the demon said, as he slowly entered the darkened barn. "You're not getting away. I supervised my men when they were putting those on."

"Please," Sam begged, as thick tears trailed down his face. "Please let me go. I don't want this! I want to go home with my family-"

"Listen to me," the demon hissed, as he crouched down in front of Sam, and roughly grabbed his jaw. "You are _never _seeing your family again, so get that idea out of your head."_  
_

"No," Sam whimpered, shaking his head. "No. I want my family. Please!"

"They're in the past. I am your present. I am your future, and the skills that you will be taught to get you strong-"

"What skills?"

"Skills that were born out of the blood that I fed you that night in your nursery," he said with a sick grin. "You and all the other special children like you, will be brought up big and strong."

"I don't want-"

"That's too bad."

And then the demon had, for some miraculous reason, let him call his family. He said it was to say goodbye, and Sam believed him, but getting the chance to speak with Caleb, and hear him speak softly and soothingly to him, had been the one thing that he had needed to hear to even remotely get him through what was happening to him, and while it didn't ease most of the fears that had plagued his heart, just having the chance to talk to someone he loved, was enough.

After that, it was more of the same. While they didn't tie him up again, the demon had his minions constantly babysitting him to make sure that he didn't try to escape. When one of them turned their backs, though, Sam had taken that chance to try, only to be thwarted when the demon had made its appearance again.

Grabbing him roughly by the hair as he jerked him back to his original post by a large tractor, he applied the ropes again, much to Sam's horror, as he bucked and fought against them. Exhausted, sweat dripping off his face, he looked up at his captors again, pleading with them for mercy.

"Let me go.."

"No."

"Why?"

"You know why," came the response.

"Sir," one of the cronies said, appearing in front of them. "They know where we are."

"Who?" the demon asked, a dangerous glint appearing in his eyes, as he turned to look at his employee.

"_His _family," he said, jerking his head in the direction of Sam. "They know."

"We move, then. Tonight."


	5. Chapter 5

Devastation; confusion; anger; worry. Dean was experiencing the entire rainbow of negative human emotion, as he kneeled down to examine the tangled up mess of ropes and blood that he had stumbled across. It was devastating to imagine that the blood was his brother's, that somehow, his brother was hurt, and his family couldn't get to him.

It gutted Dean when he thought of it like that. The idea that anyone—even a demon—would be so heartless as to hurt a child, was unfathomable to Dean, as he scrubbed a hand across his face, trying to hold in his battered emotions, as he unwillingly tore his eyes away from the sickening sight.

"Dean," Caleb began, seeing how devastated he was. "We have to go."

"Is that really his blood?" Dean whispered brokenly, looking up at Caleb. "Is he hurt?" he asked, as a strangled sob broke out from his throat.

"We don't know anything right now, Dean," Caleb quietly assured him, as he leaned down and rubbed Dean's shoulder. "We don't know if he's hurt, we don't even know if the blood is his or not."

Although there was no really no doubt in either of their minds that it _was _Sam's blood, and their denial was simply a way of avoiding the horrible truth, as they tried to re-organize their thoughts and look elsewhere.

"But what else could it be?" Dean asked, still crouched down in front of the unforgettable sight, as his stomach did a series of complicated twists and turns.

"It could be _anything_," Caleb reminded him firmly, as he grabbed Dean around the upper arm, towing him to his feet. "But the longer you look at it, Dean, the more upset you'll become."

"Yeah," Dean nodded, "you're right," he said, as his eyes filled with tears. "We were _so _close."

"We were," Caleb agreed, as they slowly began making their way out of the barn. "Which is why we have to keep looking, and refocus our efforts. If they were just here, we still have a chance of tracking them before they get too far."

"I hope."

It was the only hope either of them had—if the demon had moved him too far out of the area, the chances of finding him alive, or at least in a good condition, would be dramatically reduced. They had no idea what the demon was capable of, and if the demon had hurt Sam to force him to go? It was unthinkable to them, but realistically probable.

Dean hated to leave the barn—it was the last known location of his brother, and having to abandon that lead when it had been fresh just hours ago, was something that was difficult for him to process, as he walked close by Caleb, as they searched for Bobby.

"What did you find?" Caleb asked, as Bobby made their way toward them from the house.

"Nothing except two dead bodies, and a pool of blood," Bobby said, shaking his head. "I made a call to the cops, so we better shove off before they get here."

"Any sulfur?" Dean asked quietly, knowing that if there was any sulfur found on or near the victims, it would be a way of knowing whether or not the demon had made its mark there.

"Oh, yeah. It hit me like a ton of bricks."

Dean nodded, swallowing back the lump in his throat. "Okay."

At least they knew for sure—at least they knew that the demon had been there, at least they knew that they had hit the right mark, and had been so close to rescuing his little brother.

"So we'll go home," Caleb said, glancing around at Dean and Bobby, "and see if we can track any omens, and hopefully find something that fits."

Dean hated to go home without his brother. It absolutely gutted him to know that they had been so close to finding his little brother, and now they had to admit defeat with the approach of sundown, and go home while his little brother while any number of things could be happening to him.

"Dean," Bobby said, as they started walking toward the car. "We'll find him."

"I know," Dean said, as he slid smoothly into the backseat. "I just wanted to find him tonight."

It was getting colder out. The animals that normally stayed stationary during the daylight hours, were more active, and the thought of Sam being exposed to the elements, was absolutely horrific to him, as he swallowed back those thoughts convulsively.

"We wanted that, too," Bobby assured him, "but apparently the son of a bitch got tipped off, or got too anxious and wanted to move."

"I guess."

None of that helped him in his urgency to find Sam. If the demon had been tipped off, who had done it? Was it someone _they _knew? Or was it someone who had been spying on them that the demon had employed.

Either way, it wasn't good.

The drive home didn't seem to take long, even though they had driven way out of town to the farmhouse in the hopes of locating Sam. Once they had finally arrived to the safety of the house, Dean had made an immediate beeline to the downstairs basement.

In times like this, in times of deep crisis or hurt, the only way he knew how to cope was to distance himself from whatever was happening around him. It was something he had struggled with since he was young, and he always had a difficult time expressing his emotions when something catastrophic was happening.

It was a coping method that had served him well during the ugliness of his parents' deaths, when he had had no idea what to think, or how to cope with the realization that they would never be back. Withdrawing from everyone else, and processing it on his own, had been something that he had fallen into during both occasions.

And while it hadn't been the healthiest of ways to cope, he had embraced it, even when the people around him had tried to draw him out, and get him to open up. It was something that he had had to get through on his own, and somehow he had.

And as he got older and was able to process and feel more of the complexity of human emotions, he realized just what a burden it could all be. He felt the good, which was always a relief to feel, and he felt the bad, which could be crippling depending on the situation.

When Caleb had been gone for those horrific three months, he could remember the intense anger that he had felt, and the desperate need to _escape_. Even though he had appreciated the support that Jim had offered him during that time, it had been too painful to verbalize what he had been feeling, and now same with Sam.

Even though he _knew _that he could talk to Caleb about absolutely anything, he was afraid of what would happen when he _did. _He was already so close to losing it, that even the smallest mention of what was happening, would be bound to send him over the invisible edge, as he grabbed a sports magazine and leafed through it, not really paying attention to the print illustrated on the page.

"Thought I'd find you down here," Caleb remarked, as he came into the spacious and open room. It was the place where they most often trained, and the place that they often found themselves escaping to when they needed a break from the rest of the world, and what it did to them.

"Yeah," Dean said, as he focused determinedly on the magazine in front of him, knowing that if he faced what he knew he would eventually, he would lose it. "I just needed to get away, I guess."

"I can understand that," Caleb said, as he sat down next to him. "It's been one hell of an afternoon for you, hasn't it?"

Dean nodded, biting down on his bottom lip as he tried to control the sudden influx of tears that he was convinced was coming. It was a physical sensation that he had become very accustomed to recently, and he hated it. "Yeah, it has," he admitted.

"Talk to me," Caleb said quietly, seeing how upset Dean was, and how he was trying so hard to mask it by reading the magazine, and avoiding direct eye contact. "It's just you and I, kiddo."

"I don't really-" Dean began, knowing that answer wouldn't suffice.

"Why not?"

"Because if I bring it up, I'll start crying," Dean said, screwing up his face in a desperate attempt to reclaim control over his emotions, "and then I won't ever be able to quit."

"Dean, you have this fear of expressing any kind of emotion," Caleb said, "and it's not healthy, dude, it's _okay _to feel this kind of stuff, and more importantly, to talk about it."

"But it doesn't do any good," Dean argued weakly.

"It probably makes you feel a little better, right?" Caleb said. "Am I right?"

"Yes," Dean said with a shrug. "But it doesn't help us find Sam, does it?"

"No, but at least _you're _getting stuff out, right?"

"I guess."

"And you and I have always been able to talk stuff out, correct?"

"Yeah."

One of the many perks of their awesome relationship, was that they were able to comfortably talk about anything, and get any issues that arose, sorted out because of the honesty that they shared with one another. It was something that had gotten Dean through some of the most horrible periods of his life, and it was something that he was drawing on now for comfort.

"So I'm here," Caleb said gently. "Just give it to me straight."

"Did my Dad ever tell you about the night my Mom burned on the ceiling?" Dean asked, finally feeling strong enough to meet Caleb's gentle gaze.

"He told me some of it," Caleb said, "but he didn't really like talking about it all that much."

"Did he mention what happened when he rescued Sam from the crib?"

"No," Caleb said, shaking his head. "What happened?"

"I heard my Mom scream," Dean admitted, a stray tear falling down his cheek. "But I was so scared that I hid under the covers until I heard my Dad, and then I ran into Sammy's room, and he gave him to me, and told me to run and not look back."

"Wow," Caleb said, after a moment of silent contemplation. "I never knew that."

"It's because I never told anyone before," Dean said, looking up at him. "So ever since that time, I always assumed it was _my _job to protect him, and when something like _this_ happens? I feel like I failed him, and I feel like I failed my dad-"

"Dean," Caleb said, turning his torso around so that they were facing. "You have to know that this was _not _your fault. You didn't fail Sam, and you didn't fail your father, either."

In that moment, even though Caleb would never voice this verbally to Dean, he resented John for putting that kind of pressure on Dean's shoulders. Even long after his death, the pressure that he had drilled into his oldest, was still there and as strong as ever.

"Sam's gone," Dean said, "and it was supposed to be _my _job-"

"Dean," Caleb interjected. "I need to tell you something, okay? And I need you to keep an open mind, okay?"

Dean nodded slowly. "Alright."

"I loved your father, I did," Caleb said, "and I would never ever talk badly about him to your or your brother, but it wasn't fair the weight that he put on your shoulders. I'm not saying he didn't love you," he added, "because I _know _he did, but he didn't do you any favors in that area."

Dean shrugged. "Maybe."

He wasn't mad about what Caleb was telling him, because a part of him knew that it was the truth. From the limited amount of memory he had from right after his mother had died, his father _had _left him alone, at the age of four and five, in motel rooms with an infant brother to look after.

And that wasn't even counting the number of times he had had to take over responsibility for him when the pain of Mary's death, had become too much for John, and he had resorted to alcohol to numb the pain of it.

"What do you remember about that time?" Caleb asked curiously.

"You mean after my Mom died?" Dean asked, taking a deep breath.

"Yeah."

"Not a lot," Dean admitted. "I remember moving around a lot, and I remember him getting drunk a lot when he wasn't out doing crap."

"What would happen when he went out?"

"He would leave me with Sam, or when we were in the area, with you, Jim or Bobby."

"Right. I remember that we _wanted _to watch you guys. I can't even tell you the number of times that we raised a fit when he said that he was going to leave you guys alone in some skeevy motel room."

"I bet he _loved _that," Dean said, with a sarcastic grin.

"Well, we never really pushed it like we probably should have."

"Why?"

"Because if John got mad, he tended to cut connections," Caleb said, "so we knew that if we ever told him what we were _really _thinking about all that, he would have cut us from you kids."

"Probably," Dean quietly mused.

"Dean," Caleb said, "the only reason for this monologue is because I want you to realize that it's not on you to watch your brother all the time like you think you should. You _had _to at one point out of necessity when your Dad was hunting, but it's not like that anymore."

"I know. But it's like that with brothers, you know?"

"I do—I had a brother once, and I was always the one who would take punishment for him, or beat up the older, meaner bully on the playground because they were hassling him."

"Yeah," Dean said with a smile. "Reminds me of when I did that for Sammy."

"You _did_?" Caleb asked, an amused smile coming on over his face.

"Yeah—some kid was pushing him around, and I went over and pushed him down. Best thing I ever did."

"I bet. Listen, Dean," Caleb said carefully, "you know that I'm not trying to put your Dad down, right?"

Dean nodded. "I know."

If there was one thing Dean knew, it was that his guardians had always spoken highly of his father and had always praised him to Dean, whenever Dean had raised questions.

"He loved you," Caleb said. "You know that, right?"

"I do—sometimes I get mad that he had to do that and go out and get himself killed, but I know he loved us."

"Right," Caleb said softly. "He loved you. You two boys were everything to him, but he also had this need for revenge, and he couldn't entirely escape that, either."

"I know."

"But anyway, we're going to find Sam. In the morning, we'll know more about the couple that Bobby found in the farmhouse, and then we'll go from there."

"And in the meantime," Dean said with a sigh, "the demon and Sam are getting further and further away."

"Maybe not."

"I just feel _really _angry," Dean said, "about Sam and what he must be going through. And I don't know what to do about it."

His anger had always been a problem for him. Usually he controlled it by training or punching something, but he didn't know if even _that _would work, not when he was dealing with a ton of other issues right alongside that.

"Do you want to punch something?"

"Or _someone_," Dean said with a grin.

"You're on."

* * *

The demon was scared; ever since it had been tipped off by one of his cohorts, they had been on the move. They never stayed in one place too long, probably afraid that they would be detected again. At first they had used cars to throw Caleb and the others off their trail, but when they had gotten comfortable in the fact that they wouldn't be caught again, the demon had simply projected them from place to place, never seeming to exhaust himself, either, as he finally stopped at a cabin-like structure in the backwoods of some wildlife preserve.

"Please, can we stop?" Sam said.

"For now," came the reply from one the yellow-eyed demon's minions. "You better keep quiet, kid, and stay put."

"Or _what_?" Sam challenged.

"Or it will be worse for you in the end."

They never gave him any answers—only that he was needed in some war, and he had no idea what that even meant. The demon had told him long ago that he would only be needed when he reached adulthood, when whatever skills the demon had possessed him with, had matured.

In that course of time, Sam had naturally assumed that he and his family would have found a way out of whatever was going to happen. None of them, including Sam himself, had anticipated him being kidnapped and forced into this war years ahead of schedule.

"Come on," the yellow-eyed demon said, as he appeared suddenly. "We have to go."

"Where?" Sam demanded, as he was roughly jerked to his feet.

"We're going to see what you're made of."

* * *

A/N: I definitely wanted to have Caleb have that discussion with Dean about John. For years, Dean idolized John (on the show), and after he died, he grew to be really hurt and resentful about what John put them through as children. Dean needed to know that while John was far from perfect, and was a flawed man, he _did _love his children, and did the best he could with what he had.

If only Dean had a Caleb on the show to tell him that... *sigh*

Anyway. Enjoy!


	6. Chapter 6

"You look whipped," Bobby commented the next morning, as he looked at a bleary-eyed Dean, as he laid out over their large sectional sofa. "Did you get any sleep?" he asked softly, as he walked into the kitchen that was situated right next to the living room, and poured himself a cup of life-saving coffee.

"No," Dean said, barely stifling a yawn, as he stretched out all the sores in his muscles. "I didn't even really try. I think I got some early this morning out here, but nothing good."

"That's not good," Bobby said, stating the obvious, as he walked back out into the living room to join Dean. "You need your rest, kid."

"Oh, well," Dean said with a shrug. "I tried once but my heart was jumping around too much."

Not to mention the horrific thoughts in his head that seemed determined to torment him by showing him every single bad thing that could be happening to his little brother, and brutally reminding him that he was powerless to stop it.

"I can understand," Bobby said gently. "Do you want to try now?"

"No, but can I have some coffee?" he asked, eyeballing the Santa-themed coffee mug that Bobby had clasped in his hands.

"You're going to be wired later," Bobby said with a chuckle.

"Good—then maybe I'll be at the top of my game when we find Sam."

There was no doubt in his mind that today would be the day they finally located his little brother. It had been over twelve hours since he had been taken, and while Sam could be anywhere on planet earth, Dean tried not to think like that, and instead tried to imagine him being somewhere close, somewhere where they could easily and quickly locate him.

It was much easier to think _these _thoughts than the ones that were pressing on the other side of his brain, telling him that Sam was too far gone, that the demon had him so deeply in its clutches that a rescue would be near impossible.

Those were all thoughts that had contributed to the restless night of sleep, and while Dean tried hard to ignore those feelings and thoughts, it wasn't entirely doable, not when it was hardwired into his DNA to worry and obsess over whether his little brother was okay or not.

"Maybe."

"Did you find anything out about the couple from the house?" Dean asked, switching to a sitting position, and wrapping his arms around his knees, when Bobby handed him the coffee.

"I have a call-in to the medical examiner's office, but they were a middle-aged couple who had bought the farm about twenty or thirty years ago. The barn that Sam was in, they had hardly used it for anything. They never got any animals or anything like that."

"Hmm," Dean said thoughtfully. "So why buy something that big?"

"Good question, but they were well-known in the community so this will be in the papers for sure."

"Right. Do you think they saw Sam before-"

"Probably not. The demons wouldn't want to risk anyone seeing him. The teacher from the field trip had called the police right after the abduction, and so they probably wouldn't want to risk the couple seeing him," Bobby said gently, seeing the crestfallen look on Dean's face.

"True," Dean said. "So we'll know more when the coroner calls?"

"Yeah," Bobby said, patting his knee. "So what's on your mind?"

"Nothing," Dean said distractedly, as he finished his coffee in only a few gulps. "Caleb and I are going to work out this morning before we head out."

"Good, that should do you some good."

"Maybe," Dean said noncommittally.

Training was one of his favorite hobbies in the entire world, and while he loved the feel of a good workout, and the bonding time it gave him with Caleb, he doubted anything would help ease the weight of the burden on his shoulders until they found his little brother.

But he couldn't deny that it _would _help get his mind off the crippling pain that had assaulted his life since Sam had been kidnapped. Having no choice but to focus on something else, would be bound to do him some good, even though he couldn't see that just yet.

"What do you want to eat?" Bobby asked, already moving back into the kitchen to start preparing breakfast. Usually Caleb did most of the cooking, but Bobby wanted to give him a morning off, especially if he was still upstairs trying to sleep.

"Nothing."

"Dean-" Bobby warned.

"I'm _not _hungry," Dean said, looking over his shoulder at Bobby, as he poked his head out from behind the wall.

"You have to eat something, even if you don't feel like it."

"Too bad," Dean said shortly. "I'm not hungry."

He wasn't either. His stomach was doing too many odd flips and twists to really have the time to feel the urgent sensation of hunger, and he wasn't sure he could even stomach the taste of food at that moment, anyway.

His mind was too wired from the coffee, and the anticipation of a good, successful workout. They would do that while Bobby made a quick jaunt to the medical examiner's office to follow up on the murdered couple. When he returned, the three of them would go out together in search of a new location to search.

"Morning," Caleb said, as he finally walked into the room. "Anything new?"

"Nothing really," Bobby said, as he made some waffles. "I have to go to the medical examiner's office this morning."

"Alright," Caleb said, "I was up late last night looking into some new locations. I also found the police report from the teacher that saw the whole thing."

"You _did_?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Caleb said, nodding. "Miss Meyers, have you ever had her?"

"Once, yeah. What did she," Dean swallowed back the lump in his throat. "What did she say?"

"She provided a pretty good description to the cops about what the men looked like," Caleb said, squeezing Dean's shoulder comfortingly. "It wasn't Yellow-Eyes, or at least I don't _think _it was," he said, looking down at his carefully put together notes.

"Probably not," Bobby agreed. "He wouldn't want to risk being seen by anyone even _remotely _close to us. It would be safer for him to have others do it for him."

"Right," Caleb said, "and from what she said, there were three guys, and they just appeared out of thin air, from what she could see, and they grabbed him."

Dean nodded, batting back tears as he forced himself to listen to a verbal reenactment of his brother's abduction. It was gut-wrenching, and it made the urgency to find him, all that much more serious, as he took a deep breath. "What else?"

"Miss Meyers also said that the men weren't even really that interested in the people that were watching. It was like they had a mission, and that was it. They got him under control fast, apparently, even though he fought back hard."

"He did?" Dean asked, his voice choked.

"Yeah," Caleb said softly. "He's a smart kid, Dean, he wouldn't just stand there while someone was taking him."

"Yeah," Dean nodded. "He's too stubborn for that," he added with a small smile.

Sam was incredibly intelligent for his age. Always seeking to learn new and interesting information, and was also very smart when it came to sussing out the wrong type of people, and was always very cautious about his movements, especially with what they had been through lately, with Jim's death, and Yellow-Eye's threats.

And when Caleb had started working with him on the skills that he needed to defend himself, he had become even more interesting in learning, even more interesting in being like his big brother and guardian, and honing the skills needed to survive in a dangerous and unpredictable hunting world.

It was skills like that, that Dean was immensely grateful Sam had. Even if he didn't know nearly as much as he needed to, at least he was learning what he could, and hopefully had utilized those crucial skills Caleb had taught him, as much as he could.

"That he is," Bobby agreed. "So what else did she say?"

"Nothing really," Caleb said. "It makes it harder having the cops in on this, but we'll work around them."

For the most part, they tried to avoid working with the law enforcement as much as humanely possible. They didn't understand what they did, they didn't understand that all the illegal activity was done for a reason, and in some instances, wasn't even them at all.

"Yeah," Dean said, shifting around on his feet. "Hopefully they'll actually leave us alone this time."

"We can hope," Caleb said dryly.

The last time one of them had come in contact with the police, it had been when Caleb had been accused of murder, and the cops had hauled him into the station for questioning. Ever since then, Dean and his family had harbored a deep resentment and mistrust of the police and their work.

"So what did you find in the night?" Bobby asked.

"The car they were using," Caleb said, "it was found abandoned on the interstate."

"So," Dean said, trying to put that together in his head. "So they're traveling on foot or-"

"Or they've moving another way," Caleb said, not liking the thought of it all.

"Well," Bobby said, "I'll head off to the medical examiner's then, and see what I can find out about this couple."

"Okay. We'll work out for a few minutes until you get back, and then we'll shove off."

"Okay."

* * *

Sam was terrified. The demons had moved him around a half dozen times before finally stopping in a backwoods cabin area. They were deep in the wilds of some animal preserve, and while once upon a time, Sam would have loved to have been in such close contact with the animals that he loved, right then he was only feeling panic as one of the yellow-eyed demon's men roughly untied him from his post, and gripping him by the upper arm, towed him out a field that was only a few miles from where the cabin was.

"Where are you taking me?" Sam pleaded, as he pulled back on the firm grip the demon had placed on his upper arm. "Please let me go!"

"Shut up," the demon hissed, shaking him.

Once they had reached the spot they wanted, the demon let Sam go roughly. Falling to his knees, Sam hacked harshly, before realization set in as to where he was and who was surrounding him. Looking up, he saw the Yellow-Eyed Demon as he leered sickeningly down at him.

"Welcome to the ring, champ."

"The—the _ring_?"

"Yup," YED said with a sick grin. "Here we're going to see what you're made of, tiger."

"What?"

Clicking his fingers, a boy of about Sam's age suddenly appeared. Looking as scared as Sam was, he glanced in a blind panic back and forth between the demons and the little boy in front of him.

"This here, is another one of my children," YED said, clamping a strong hand down on the other boy's shoulder. "You two, you're going to battle for top spot."

"What are you talking about?" Sam said, his heart pounding frantically in his ribcage, as he searched around for any means of escape. There was an open field that housed hundreds of miles of land, but what were the odds of escaping the demon when it had the power of moving at lightening fast speed?

"No," Sam said, shaking his head. "No, I'm not going to."

"You _are_," the demon said. "I have many other special children, but I'm going to see which of you two is the strongest."

"And if we don't?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Then I'll rip out your intestines and make a meal out of them."

Feeling sweat beads congregate on his head, Sam swallowed convulsively as he took a step near the terrified other boy. The boy wasn't much older than he was, and Sam doubted that he had any knowledge of the supernatural, or what was going on.

He was just an average child that had been thrust into an adult, unthinkable situation.

As the demons stepped away to give them room to fight, Sam took a trembling step foreword.

"Just run," he whispered brokenly. "Just run."

"What if they catch us," the boy whispered.

"They might," Sam admitted, "but we have to give ourselves a chance," he whispered. "Hit me, though," he added, getting an idea.

"_What_?" The boy said incredulously. "Hit you-"

"To make it look real—hit me and make it look convincing."

His heart rapidly making the shift to his throat, he waited for the inevitable punch that the boy would throw to his jaw, hoping that the demons would be too distracted by the sick fight to realize what they were planning on doing.

When the inevitable punch came, Sam tried not to let the pain show on his face, as he turned tail along with the boy, and made a desperate dash into the forest that bordered the field. They had more of a chance to escape with the cover of trees, but it wasn't a for sure plan, and Sam knew that, as he tried to enjoy as much of the freedom as he could.

"That...was...a...good...punch," Sam said, clutching the stitch in his chest, as he stopped briefly to look at the boy next to him.

"My dad's a blackbelt," the boy said. "I'm Jesse, by the way."

"Sam."

"How did you get here?" Jesse asked, wrapping his arms around himself when a cold wind passed by them. "I was lifted right from my bedroom."

"Parking lot."

It had been a brazen move even for a demon.

"Wow."

"We have to keep moving," Jesse said, glancing nervously over his shoulder. "Let's go."

"Okay."

They hadn't gotten two steps before YED appeared in front of them. Smiling like he had accomplished the greatest thing in the world by finding them, he grinned down at the duo.

"Now, both of you have been bad little soldiers. The question that _I _have is who was the ringleader. Huh?" he said harshly, as he gripped Sam by the upper arm and away from his new friend. "Was it you? Or was it Jesse?"

"It was me," Sam began desperately. "Please don't hurt him-"

The demon seemed to consider his plea, before laughing. "You, Sammy, you have always been my favorite. And that was why I let you get as far as I did before I followed. Congratulations, you won the first round."

Before Sam could even do so much as blink, the demon had snapped Jesse's neck. Sam's screams of horror were drowned out, by the hand his cronies placed around his mouth, as they dragged him back to the place they had been keeping him.


	7. Chapter 7

Despite the fact that Dean could feel his heart breaking with each passing hour that went by without them finding Sam, or a viable lead to follow that might lead them to the location the demon had stored his brother, he was excited to train.

Training had been a huge part of his life ever since he had first started hunting. A section of their basement was devoted to his and Caleb's workouts, which varied from shooting targets outside, or going downstairs to perform more physically taxing routines.

And it was also a unique way to channel his anger into something positive. That was one of the many lessons that Caleb had taught him, using the workouts to change his anger into something productive, and to get out his frustrations there instead of exploding later on.

Usually it was something that Dean loved to do with a burning passion, but ever since Sam had been taken, he had lost the excitement to do anything other than hunt his brother down, and make sure the demon or _demons _responsible, payed for what they had done.

"You ready?" Caleb asked, as he came down into the basement. Dean had already gone down ahead of him, eager to get a head start.

"You bet."

Already he could feel the toxic adrenaline course through his veins, as he tested out the various workout equipment at their disposal, trying to decide which pair he wanted to work with the most.

"Did you eat something?"

"No," Dean said with a shrug, as he finally selected some new boxing gloves they had just gotten. "I wasn't hungry."

It was partially true—his stomach was acting too weird for him to decide if he wanted to eat or not, and he was sure that if he tried, he would throw up from the sheer nerves that he was experiencing, as he anxiously switched from foot to foot.

"Dean," Caleb said, "you _have_ to eat something. You can't do these workouts, or go out later with an empty stomach and zero sleep."

"Fine," Dean said, accepting the granola bar that Caleb offered him. "Thanks."

Finishing off the bar as quickly as he could without choking himself, Dean instantly switched into the workout mode that Caleb had long ago taught him. This was comforting, this was familiar and it was something that he had been craving, even if he didn't realize it.

"Alright," Caleb said, as he threw a brutal punch. "What are you feeling right now?"

"I'm angry," Dean panted, as he tried to match the pace that Caleb was working at.

"Why?"

"Because Sam's gone, and I wasn't there to protect him."

"What else are you feeling?" Caleb urged, as he suddenly shifted pace and grabbed Dean and effortlessly flipped him on his back.

"Failure," Dean said, trying to catch his breath. "I feel like I failed Sammy by not protecting him," he gasped, as he suddenly pushed himself to his feet, and lunged another attack on Caleb.

"You feel like your Dad would be angry with you," Caleb said, trying to work through all of Dean's unseen issues and turn them into something positive, instead of something that Dean fretted and obsessed over each second Sam was gone.

"Yes!"

"You feel like Sam would be here if you had been there to stop it."

"Yes!" Dean said, as he threw a powerful right hook.

"Good!" Caleb praised, as he threw another reciprocal punch. "You feel that?"

"What?" Dean said, wiping the gleaming sweat from his forehead, as he paused briefly to take a refreshing sip of his water.

"That power that comes out when you express your anger like that."

"Yeah," Dean nodded, leaning over momentarily to catch his breath. "It felt good."

"That release is everything," Caleb coached, as he joined him in taking a sip of his own water. "It's important that you realize what you're _feeling _isn't a bad thing, Dean, it's how you express it that makes the most difference."

"I know that," Dean said. "That was awesome."

"It was, wasn't it?"

"Yeah."

It was something that Dean had needed to do, even if he hadn't exactly realized it at the time. Completing a successful workout was everything to him on a good day, but on a bad day like that, it was essential for him to do something that would get his mind off the fact that his little brother was gone, and kidnapped by the same thing that had killed Jim, and their mother.

"Are you glad you did it?" Caleb asked, as they walked back upstairs to wait for Bobby to come back.

"Yeah. I didn't want to at first," Dean admitted, as he took a seat at the kitchen table. "But I'm glad you shoved me into doing it."

"I know you better than _you _know you sometimes," Caleb said, shrugging. "Happens when you're with someone as long as I've been with you and Sammy."

"True," Dean said with a small smile. "So where are we going after Bobby gets back?"

"We're going to talk to Sam's teacher, the one who saw him get grabbed."

"Oh, good."

Not that she could necessarily direct them to where Sam had been taken, but she could have seen what demons took him, or at least describ what vehicle they took or if Yellow-Eyes was there or not.

So far they had no other leads to go on. Either the demon had entirely abandoned the idea of using cars, or it had started traveling another way, a way that would make it near impossible to track. At that point, they were waiting for a miracle.

A serious miracle that would lead them to to where his little brother was, and have a successful rescue. And if the odds were really in their favor, kill the demon once and for all. Dean didn't just want to exorcise it, he wanted to actually kill it for the horrors it had caused his family, and for the pain that he had inflicted on his and on countless other family's.

When Bobby came back, he filled them in briefly on what he had found out at the coroner's. Nothing new except that the couple _had _been murdered, and had been the owners of the house that the demons had been using as their temporary getaway with Sam.

Nothing to investigate, much to Dean's disappointment. The couple had been plain, ordinary people who's lives had been prematurely ended thanks to the sadistic actions of another. While it was discouraging that, in their deaths, they hadn't held a clue to Sam's location, the idea of talking to the teacher who had seen the whole thing, was slightly encouraging to him.

"What do you remember?" Caleb asked calmly, as he spoke with the teacher, a woman in her fifties.

"I—I re—remember walking across the parking lot with my students," she said shakily, reaching foreword to grab a box of tissue paper. "And then this _van _pulled up all of a sudden, and out jumped these three _men_," she said, shaking her head in obvious disbelief of what she had witnessed.

"And what did they do?" Bobby asked carefully.

"They didn't care who was watching. It was as if they had certain orders and that was all they were there to do."

"And their orders were to grab Sam?" Dean asked, closing his eyes to shield himself from the waterworks that he could feel begin to gather behind his eyelids.

"I guess, but why would they want to grab a _child_?"

"People can be sick," Caleb said, knowing that this woman had no idea how true that statement could be, or that they weren't actually talking about a _person _at all, but a demon who had his own, twisted reasons for kidnapping an innocent child.

"But can you provide a description of the men that were there?" Bobby asked.

"I—I already spoke with police," she said, shifting her eyes curiously to the men in front of her. "Why would I-"

"Just humor us," Caleb said. "And can you provide a license plate number for the van?"

"Oh, sure," she said, readily passing over that information to them.

"Thank you."

* * *

Ever since Sam had tried to escape with his now deceased friend Jesse, the demons had kept even closer tabs on him. Whereas before there would be times when they would untie him from the post they had kept him at, now he was subjected to being there constantly. There was no way they would risk him pulling another move like the one he had pulled the night before.

But Sam wasn't ready to give up—there had to be a time when they would untie him, and he was patiently waiting for that time to begin. It had been hours since his last meal of carrots and some pasta, and while the food had sufficed for the time being, it had been hours since then, and his throat and stomach were paying the price for their neglect.

"Hey," he croaked, when he saw a demon walk by him. "Can you untie me?" he asked hopefully. "I need to get something to eat."

"Too bad," was the reply.

Undeterred, Sam tried again. "Can I use the bathroom, then?"

The only "bathroom" available to him, were the woods, but he didn't care. More tree cover meant another possible escape attempt, and this time he fully intended on making the most of it, as he tried to prepare himself mentally in case the demon decided to believe him.

"Fine," he grunted. "Five minutes."

Sam waited patiently while the demon undid his bonds, even though his every muscle was clenched tight with anticipation at the thought of a successful escape. Once he actually managed to get out of the forest they had moved to, he wasn't sure what he planned on doing, except find somewhere to use a phone and call home.

He was sure his family was frantic with worry by now, and he wanted nothing more than to actually have the chance to find them and reassure them that he was safe, that he was okay.

Once he was free to stand up, it took several seconds for his body to get over the equilibrium, but once he had, he calmly followed his demon bodyguard into the privacy and cover of the forest.

"Some privacy?"

The demon hesitated before nodding, clearly not sure whether or not his boss would be okay with the idea, but he plainly decided to take the risk, as he stepped back.

Once he had, Sam took off. It felt good to use his legs like that, even though he was quickly becoming tired as he zigzagged through the trees, trying to see clearly through the haze of panic and exhilaration he was feeling, as he looked back over his shoulder and was slightly encouraged when he didn't see any of his pursuers.

Panting deeply, he had to stop to catch his breath, and that was when they caught him. Gripping him roughly by the shoulder, the same demon that had accompanied him into the forest, threw him back onto the ground.

Landing painfully on his back, Sam tried to get back up, but was held down by the demon that had led him to the forest. Glaring daggers up at him, Sam tried to buck and kick but was overpowered by the demon.

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," YED taunted, as he came into his line of view. "I need good little soldiers," he said, as he leaned down so Sam could see him, completely indifferent to the terror that Sam was feeling, as he struggled with all of the strength that he possessed. "Not soldiers that will try to escape at every turn," he said, as he ran one long finger down the length of Sam's jaw.

"I'm sorry-" Sam began, knowing his efforts were futile. This was the second or third attempt he had made at escape, and he knew their patience was wearing thin. There was only so much he could pull before the yellow-eyed demon got frustrated, even if he _was _his prized possession.

"But I can't believe that," YED said calmly, and that terrified Sam even more. "You told me once before that you would behave, and that proved to be nothing more than a bunch of lies. And now, thanks to you, Jesse was killed, and then you pull another stunt like this."

"It won't happen again-"

"Lies," the demon hissed angrily, before pulling away from him. "Kill him," he said to this men. "But kill him slowly, make him suffer."

Sam's eyes widened in pure terror, as the demons stepped foreword again. One held him down, while another approached him with a four or five inch blade. Pressing it to his throat, the demon prepared to kill him, while Sam bucked and struggled with everything in him, as he felt the tip of the cool blade press on his skin.

"P—please," Sam sobbed, "p—please—I'm s-sorry. I'm sorry, p—please don't h—hurt me!"

"You dug your grave," the demon said cruelly.

"N—no," Sam begged, as he twisted and turned his body with the limited moving space he had, as he tried to turn away from the knife that was at his throat. "I'll do anything, please! Please, I swear I'll do whatever you say!"

"What do you mean?" the demon asked, suddenly taking interest.

"Anything," Sam sobbed hysterically. "P—Please. I don't want to die, please! I'll stay—I'll stay, I promise!"

Waving his men off the boy, YED approached him again. "You promise to stay with me?"

"Yes," Sam sobbed.

"You will eat when I tell you to."

"Yes."

"You will sleep when I say."

"Yes."

"You will never think about your family again," he said, sealing the final nail in the coffin for Sam.

"No."

"Let him up."

Sam had said what he had had to say to save his life, but it was what the demon had told him that had completely crushed him. Never think about his family again? It was impossible, and it gutted him to know that the demon was serious about him never seeing the people that he adored, again.

But it was the memories that he had of them, that were carrying him through this time. During those long nights when he was tied to the pole and he couldn't sleep, he thought of them, and it helped.

He missed his family more than anything.

He missed his brother.

The inside jokes he and Dean shared with each other. The times when they would watch a movie late at night together, and then have nightmares afterwords.

Even when Dean was being a jerk and wrestling too hard with him, it was a brotherly bonding moment that he had loved so much, and now wished more than anything, he could have back, as he heaved back another sob.

He missed Caleb.

He missed the kind and loving way Caleb was with not only him, but with Dean, as well. He was the rock that had held them together after Jim had died, and he was the one who had made sure they were protected from harm.

He missed bedtimes when Caleb would (teasingly) pick him up and slam him down on his bed, and then tell him all sorts of exciting stories of his hunts, and how he narrowly managed to escape death and destruction at the hands of a monster.

He missed his family.


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey, kid."

"Hey," Dean said, lifting his head briefly to look over at Caleb as he entered the living room, where he had been sprawled out over the sofa. "Did you find anything?"

Ever since they had spoken with the teacher who had witnessed Sam's abduction, the guys had worked none-stop to try to find any clues in the sand that fit the pieces of the puzzle together. It was almost impossible, though.

The teacher had been able to accurately describe what she had seen to both the police and the guys when they had come over to interview her, but it didn't account for the fact that at any point, the demons could have switched cars, or even meatsuits, to throw off Sam's eager and frantic family.

All of those possibilities were terrifying for Dean, who couldn't even bear to imagine what was happening to his little brother, or that he was getting further and further away from them. It would only make sense for the demon to do anything necessary to cover its tracks, but that didn't mean Dean had to dwell on that fact, or obsess over it.

His every thought and action was devoted to finding him and getting him home. It didn't matter what Sam had gone through, or even what his family had gone through in getting him back. In the end, all that mattered was making sure he was safe and okay.

"Not yet," Caleb said, as he moved Dean's feet to make room for himself. "But we're looking," he assured Dean, seeing the crestfallen look on his face, and he hated it. "We're looking into another lead from someone that _might _have seen them, and then Bobby's looking into some demonic omens."

"Where are those?" Dean asked, scooting himself up to a higher position. "Missouri, supposedly."

"Really?" Dean asked, wrinkling his nose in confusion. "The demon might be there?"

"_Maybe_," Caleb emphasized. "The problem with looking into these omens is that it could be from any demon, not just the one we're looking for. We have to somehow connect a reliable pattern and trace it to the source."

"Well," Dean said, as he reached over to take a sip of his soda. "At least _our _demon has one special _hobby_."

"Kidnapping kids?" Caleb guessed, as he laid his hand on Dean's knee.

"Yeah, and starting nursery fires. Shouldn't those be one of the signs you look for in an area?"

"Yeah," Caleb nodded softly. "We're looking into everything."

"But," Dean said with a small sigh, as he finally got up the nerve to voice what he was _really _thinking. "What if it's not enough?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if...what if we're too late?" Dean said, shaking his head as a single tear dropped out of his eye to trail down his cheek, as he raised a shaking hand to wipe it off. "The demon's not stupid, Caleb. It killed our mom, it killed Jim, and this is all connected to Sam, so what if that was just his sick way of warning us? What if we really screwed up somehow, and now it's too late to do anything about it?"

"Do you really think that?" Caleb asked gently, as he saw the thirteen-year-old completely crumble.

"I don't _want _to," Dean said, shaking his head. "I'm just trying to look at facts, here. I want to find Sam so much," he said, as he tried in vain to swipe the tears off his face, "but we aren't getting anywhere, and for all we know, these omens Bobby's looking into, will be crap."

"But," Caleb said, "we _don't _know, Dean. There could be as good of a chance as these omens meaning something, then it means them being nothing. We have to have _hope_, Dean, always."

"I do, but sometimes it's hard. It's been two days, and I feel like we aren't any closer than when this whole thing _started_."

It was hard to believe, even for Dean, that it had been two days since his brother had been taken. On some days, it felt like it had just happened. On the bad days, the ones that Dean most typically had, it seemed like it had happened a thousand years ago, and they were no closer to cracking it, than they were when it had just happened.

"It's been awhile," Caleb admitted, "especially when you're dealing with something like _this_, but I really believe Sam is okay, and I do believe that he will be back."

"How do you know?"

"Call it intuition or just wishful thinking, but I have a feeling that he _will _be okay. We may not find him today or even tomorrow, but I can't entirely get rid of this feeling that he's okay."

Dean nodded, trying to let Caleb's words sink in and offer him the comfort that he needed so desperately during this time. "I'm glad _you _think that."

"You can too," Caleb coached quietly. "You just have to shove, as much as you can, the emotions that tell you different. Recognize those as the bad thoughts, and replace them with the good. The ones that tell you that Sammy will be alright, that we'll bring him home in the end."

Dean nodded slowly, trying to process what Caleb was trying to teach him and use it. "Thanks."

"Anytime. So the main omens we have to look for-"

"Deaths. Nursery fires. And the usual, right?"

"Right. We'll find him, Dean. This demon may have stuff over us that we don't have, but he doesn't have love or determination, does he?"

"No."

"Exactly," Caleb said. "So just hang tight and we'll get there in the end."

"Thanks."

"Hey," Bobby said, choosing that moment to walk into the room. "I got something."

"What?" Dean asked, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to reach Bobby. "Is it Sam? Or the omens you were tracking?"

"Calm down," Bobby said with a faint chuckle. "Dido on Sam, _but _I _did _find some demonically related omens."

"Where?" Caleb asked, tightening his hand on Dean's shoulder, as though he was as nervous as Dean was himself.

"Missouri."

* * *

They had moved around so much in the last two or three days that Sam was honestly beginning to lose track of where they were from day to day. The last he knew, when he had overhead the demons talking, they were in Nebraska, near where Ellen and Bill lived.

While that knowledge _should _have been comforting to him, it actually did little to soothe him. Even if Ellen and Bill had been alerted to his abduction, there was little they could do, they would be trapped just like Caleb and Bobby would be.

In the middle of the night, they had awoken Sam and untied him to move him _again_. Either YED was worried that they were being followed, or was reacting out of pure paranoia. Either way, they were back in a forested, secluded area.

"Why did we move again?" Sam asked, when he saw YED walk past the place where they had restrained him.

"I have to pay a little visit," YED said, looking down at him.

"To _who_?"

"Another one of my special children. Like you," he said with a chuckle. "Here," he added, throwing him some berries. "Enjoy."

"Thanks...I guess," Sam said, wondering why the demon was suddenly gifting him with food when, before, he had had to beg for every morsel he got from the demons.

"When good little soldiers behave, they get rewarded," he said in explanation, obviously catching the confusion on the nine-year-old's face.

Swallowing back his revulsion, Sam tried to ignore him as best he could, as he enjoyed the rare fruity treat that he had been given. Barely sparing the thought that they might be poisonous, he tried to put all worry out of his mind as he enjoyed the nourishment.

While the demons hadn't exactly _starved _him since he had to be at peak shape to show off his training skills when needed, they certainly hadn't been generous in sharing their rations with him, and while it had been something that he had gotten used to after the first few hours, it still burned his stomach and his thirst when he saw the demons enjoying any kind of food or drink, that he would have paid dearly to have.

"When can I," Sam said, choosing his words carefully. "When do you think you can trust me enough to keep me untied?"

In the last few days since his kidnapping, he had made numerous escape attempts. The last one had nearly cost him his life, and he had had to bargain with the demon in a last ditch effort to save himself. Thinking of it, still brought a chill down his spine, as he forced himself to look at the demon that had terrified him for as long as he could remember.

"You're going to show me some of your skills later," the demon replied. "If you chose to be good and stay in the ring and perform, maybe we can arrange something later."

"Fine," Sam sniffled, rubbing his tied hands up against the tree trunk he was tied to, to get rid of a persistent itch he had had. "When are you going to-"

"Have you out in the ring?"

"Yes."

"Later tonight."

The "ring" was nothing more than a large patch of empty field that the demons dragged the "special" children to perform and compete. It was sick, making children fight each other like that, but the demon was trying to suss out who would be of use to him, and who would be disposable.

"Okay."

In general, he tried to avoid conversing with the demon as much as humanely possible. The demon had no regard for his life or his well being, he was just a pawn to be used and then disposed of later when he had worn out his usefulness.

Thinking of his family was the one thing that kept him together in the midst of impossible circumstances, and that was what he resorted to when the demon was telling him something he didn't like, or was trying to tune out.

It had been so long, or so it seemed to him, since he had been taken. He was sure that his family was losing their minds with worry by now, and even though he would never voice these hopes to his demonic captors, he prayed that his family would finally get a solid lead to follow up on, and find him.

Even though the rescue would undoubtedly be messy, he didn't care, as long as they all came out of it alive and well in the end. Each day that passed only increased his urgency to see them, to finally be reunited with the loving guardian that he had known since he was a year old, and with the brother that had loved him and had carried him out of his burning house when he was six months old.

When they finally came and untied him from the tree, and tightly gripped his upper arm to lead him out out to the ring, he tried not to panic as he swallowed back the solid lump in his throat.

The last challenge had been to test his physical endurance. What now?

"What are you going to make me do?" Sam asked nervously, as he shifted from foot to foot.

"See how you fight," the demon said eagerly. "Any soldier of mine, must know how to fight, to be the leader of my army and lead the other children like you."

"Fight?" Sam asked nervously, as he swallowed back noticeably. "I don't know-"

"Ah, come on!" YED said, slapping him on the shoulder. "I've been watching you, Sammy. I've seen you work your way around a knife. You know how to do that, right?"

"Yes," Sam admitted, bowing his head against the pain of carrying out one more task of YED's. "I know how to do _that_."

Ever since he had found out the "truth" from reading his father's journal, Caleb had been carefully working with him, teaching him the skills needed in order to ensure his survival. Since Sam was so new to the life, and his body wasn't accustomed to the intensity of the workouts like Dean was used to, Caleb had started out slow with Sam for his own health, and to give his body time to adjust.

Workouts had been something that both boys had looked foreword to, and one of the lessons that Caleb had recently started teaching Sam, was how to correctly use a knife for self-defense purposes. It had been a useful lesson, and one that he had, luckily, carried with him, even through all the artificial stuff that had happened in between.

"_Great_," YED said, clapping his hands. "Then show me how you would stab through the heart."

"The...what?"

"The heart. Any good, fatal shot would be directed at the heart. Or," he shrugged flippantly. "Another major organ, but for kicks, we'll do the heart. How do you do it?"

"I...don't...know," Sam admitted.

Caleb had never taught him _that, _had never taught him the highly technical moves that the demon was requesting. The basics of his previous lessons with Caleb, had just been about rudimentary self-defense since none of them even figured that they would be thrust into a situation like _this_.

"Like this," the demon said, not wasting a precious second as he thrust the knife he had been using, into one of his demon cronies.

It had been a clean, precise shot just near the ribcage. While Sam pretended to watch and take note, he was sickened that he was expected to learn something like that at his age. While he never liked to be babied by his family, this was going on a whole new level that he wasn't comfortable with.

"So show me how you do that," YED said, as he passed over the knife to the terrified child.

"O...okay," Sam said, as he faced the human target that he would be stabbing. It was a demon, but when he was brutally reminded of the fact that it was a human meatsuit that would, no doubt, feel the full effects of what had happened to it, it made him pause as he swallowed back the nausea that he was feeling.

"Do it like I just showed you, champ."

"F—fine," Sam said, as he screwed up his courage and, acting with the precision that he had observed while watching YED, he plunged the knife into the chest of the victim. The demon barely flinched, as though it didn't bother him at all.

"Good job."


	9. Chapter 9

Finally they had a lead.

After nearly four days of fruitless searching and interrogating witnesses, the guys and Dean finally had a solid lead as to where the demon (and Sam) might be. It was the first real one they had had in nearly four days, ever since the night they had searched the barn where Sam had been initially kept.

Missouri.

A town in that state had been crawling with demonic omens over the last week and a half, and finally, the night before, a death had occurred. A nursery fire with much the same outcome of the one that had started it all for Sam and Dean.

A mother was dead, burned alive in what the police call, a faulty wire in the wall. The baby, a little girl, was alive, barely, after consuming too much smoke, but the father was an absolute wreck, hospitalized for his own mental well being after losing his wife, his home and now almost losing his little girl.

Dean felt for the family who's lives had been irrevocably torn apart. It was something that he had gone through at the tender age of four when his own mother had been burned on the ceiling of his brother's nursery, and then his revenge—driven father had dedicated his life to finding the killer responsible for the gruesome act, and that had eventually caused his own death at the hands of a demon.

Traveling the ten, eleven hours to Missouri, was a long shot. At any time the demon could get antsy again, and decide to move, and then their whole trip would have been for nothing. Still, they had to check on the off chance that Sam would actually be there, that they might actually be able to rescue him from the torment and pain he had undoubtedly suffered from.

Drumming his leg nervously, Dean leaned his head back against the seat, as he tried to breathe through the frantic pounding of his own heart, as he swallowed back the rough dryness in his throat. Reaching down to grab his soda bottle, he took a refreshing gulp from it, as he put it back down.

"How much longer?" he asked, his voice rough from not having spoken in awhile.

"About another hour," came Bobby's reply from the driver's side.

"Okay."

Folding his hand under his chin, Dean sighed as he tried to tolerate the rest of the trip. It wasn't easy, whenever he thought of _who _had Sam, and why, it only increased his urgency to find him and bring him home where he belonged.

"We'll get there," Caleb said reassuringly. "Just try to be patient."

"Fat chance," Dean said jokingly, attempting a smile on his face, though it came out half-hearted.

"It will be okay," Caleb said. "Just a little bit longer."

"Yeah."

When they passed the sign welcoming them to Missouri, he breathed the sigh of relief that he hadn't realized he'd been holding in, as he glanced around at all the unfamiliar scenery. None of that really mattered to Dean in the grand scheme of things, and instead of obsessing over when they would get there, and if it'd be too late again, he recharged his batteries to focus completely and totally on finding Sam, and whoever had done this to him.

Their first stop was a local motel to check-in. Since none of them knew how long their trip would span, they figured they better cover all their bases and make sure they had a place to sleep in case the trip dragged on longer than originally planned.

"Are we going to interview the father?" Dean asked, as he took a seat at the only circular table in the small room.

In his short and varied hunting career, it was rare that he spent time in motel rooms. Unless he was accompanying them on a hunting trip, which was sometimes rare, he was at home. Still, he couldn't deny the security that having such close quarters gave him, as he switched from the uncomfortably hard chair, to one of two beds in the room.

"Bobby's going to," Caleb replied, as he set out his research equipment. "In the meantime, we're going to look for those demonic omens, and see if we can connect a pattern to other cases from years back."

"Okay, make sure that it's really _the _demon, you mean?"

Caleb nodded. "Yeah. What time is your interview, Bobby?" he asked, looking over at the older hunter.

"In a few minutes. I'll see what he knows, if anything, and then report back here."

"Sounds good."

Even though Dean was glad to have Caleb there to keep him sane, he would have preferred going with Bobby, if only for the fact that it would have given him something to distract his overworked mind with.

Over the last several days, his mind had assaulted him with a slew of thoughts that had both horrified and sickened him about his brother, and he was more than ready for that pain to be over and done with, as he watched Bobby walk out the door.

"You doing okay?" Caleb asked, as he started separating his mountainous pile of research into piles so it would be easier to sort through.

"Yeah," Dean said, shrugging one shoulder as he looked down at the impressive research in front of him. "So this is the pattern that you've been able to pick up so far?"

"Yeah. Over the last several, several years there's been similar patterns to this son of a bitch, and we're just trying to see where it all started, where it all originated from."

"Okay."

It was exhausting work, but it was the mental kind of exhausting. Dean was glad for that shift. Over the last few days, he had worked his body into a frenzy, trying to find his brother but exhausting himself at the same time.

"See where a pattern starts?" Caleb asked quietly, after they had been at the job for an hour or so.

"Yeah," Dean nodded, his throat dry.

Lawrence, Kansas.

1973.

A few deaths, unreported by the media until later. Infants with one or both parents dying in a fire caused by, according to police, a mysterious, faulty wire line. It was the exact same thing that had caused the fire his mother had died in.

"It all started there," Caleb said. "Way before you were even _born_."


	10. Chapter 10

"What does any of this have to do with _Lawrence_, though?" Dean said, as his brain tried to comprehend the evidence that was right in front of him. "What's so special about _this _town?"

"I don't know," Caleb said, scrubbing a hand across his jaw. "The demon might have been hunting there, and just came across your family by accident. Dumb luck, you know?"

"I doubt it," Dean said, shaking his head. "Were there any deaths there during that time?"

It would make it much easier to _actually_ connect the dots, if they had something solid to back up what the pattern was so obviously speaking to them about. As he leaned foreword out of sheer adrenaline and eagerness, he tried to control the frantic racing of his own heart, as he looked at the bundle of research that Caleb had set out.

"A few," Caleb said carefully, as if he knew something that Dean didn't, and was hesitant about telling him.

"Like _who_?" Dean asked, obviously catching onto his sudden hesitance. "Who died?"

"Deanna and Samuel Campbell."

"_Campbell_?" Dean said, that name ringing a bell in his head, as he tried to remember where he had heard it before. It had been so long, but he could have sworn he had once before heard his mother or father mentioning a name like that.

"Your grandparents. On your Mom's side."

Dean nodded. "They were killed by the demon?"

"I don't know," Caleb said gently, "but it looks like that's probably what happened."

"Yeah," Dean said quietly, as he stared down at their names that were on the print before him. They had died long before he had been born, long before his parents had even been married, and now he was only just learning about them. "Deanna," he remarked. "Kind of like-"

"You were named after them. So was Sammy."

"Yeah. So where does the next pattern pick up?"

"Nothing concrete," Caleb said, "a few omens in Alaska and Montana, but it doesn't _really _pick up until about ten years later."

"You mean-" Dean said, his heart wrenching itself in his throat.

"Yeah. November 2nd 1983."

"When the demon bitch came and fried my Mom on the ceiling."

"Yeah," Caleb said, reaching over to rub his shoulder. "After that happened, the demon was quiet for a _long _time until just recently when Sam was taken."

"Any omens like the ones we know?"

"Yeah. All over the place, but the most recent ones, have been right here in Missouri."

"Okay."

And that was where Bobby was right then, scouting out the omens to see if they connected to their demon or not. The risk was high. If anyone on the demon's side saw them, it could mean another dead end for them, and another missed opportunity.

"And right now, Bobby's looking into them, trying to see if they're legit or not."

"Right."

Even though he knew what Bobby was doing, was important, it was still difficult to wait around in the motel room for him to come back. Once he and Caleb were done with the important research, he fled the confines of the chair, and did what comforted him best when he was stressed.

Pacing.

The movement helped to clear his mind, as he struggled to process everything that had happened in such a short amount of time. Twisting his hands anxiously around the other, he tried to clear his mind the best he knew how, but it was almost impossible.

Just the _thought _that they could be close to rescuing Sam, was enough to make him want to charge out with all guns blazing, and find him, but first they needed to know where to look, where to even _start_ their search in that area.

"Dean?" Caleb said, watching his progress across the limited flooring space they had. "You okay?"

"Fine."

"Worried about today?" Caleb guessed, knowing Dean so well by then.

"Worried about _not _finding Sam."

"I am, too," Caleb admitted.

"If we can at least _get _to Sam-"

"Then we have to figure out a way to either kill the demon outright, or exorcise the demon from the host."

Dean nodded. "I get what you're saying, but I want to kill it."

It had been the one singular desire he had had since Sam had been taken from them, and even before then, when his mother had died, and he had learned that it was a demon that had done the job. Swallowing back the hatred as best he could in order to control himself, he finally gave up on his frantic movements, and settled down next to Caleb again.

"I know," Caleb said softly, "but you can't go in there half-cocked, either."

"Sounds about right," Dean remarked dryly.

"If you want to get killed."

Dean didn't have time to respond. At that moment, the door was flung open, and Bobby walked back in. It was obvious he had learned something from the latest victim he had interviewed, and Dean was chomping at the bit to know exactly _what_.

"So," Caleb said, walking over to the bed where Bobby had situated himself. "What did you learn from the dude?"

"It's the demon alright," Bobby said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Exact same thing that happened in your nursery," he said, glancing over at Dean, his features softening in the slightest, knowing how sensitive that subject was for him.

"The same death-" Dean began.

"_Exact_," Bobby said, shaking his head. "The poor guy is running himself hoarse trying to find out what happened."

"Did you tell him?" Caleb asked.

"No. His little girl is still in the hospital, some lung infection from the fire."

"Wow," Dean said, shaking his head. "Is she going to be okay?"

"Most likely, yeah."

"Good."

"But I have a lead on a demon," Bobby said, obviously getting around to what he had wanted to tell them from the moment he had walked through the door. "Joshua, remember him?"

"Yeah," Caleb nodded. "I don't think you do," he said, looking down at Dean, "but he's a good friend of Bobby's and mine. So what does _he _have?"

"He has a demon under a Devil's Trap right now. He thinks it might know something about Sam."

"How does he figure?" Dean asked.

"Mentioned the demon's name."


	11. Chapter 11

"Joshua said that the demon mentioned _the _demon's name?" Dean said, trying to reconcile that miraculous, (but also _incredulous _fact) in his head. "Are you _serious_?"

"From what he said," Bobby shrugged. "The demons have been hanging around town, and one of them was stupid enough to make a sideshow into Joshua's supply shop, and he started talking once Joshua put him under the trap."

"That was lucky," Dean commented, as he threw his coat on. "So are we ready?"

"You bet."

The ride to the shop didn't take long in reality, but in Dean's mind, it was taking forever, as he stared out at all the passing cars and scenery, as he wished desperately that they would reach the shop, and be able to interrogate the demon as to where Sam was, and if he was alright or not.

It was a long-shot, especially if this demon was lying like he was suspicious of, but he was determined to find out for himself, determined to watch his guardians interrogate the demon, and find out exactly _what _he knew, and how strong his evidence was.

Kicking his leg against the back of the seat, he closed his eyes to try to temper the panic that was running like lava through his veins, as he chewed manically on his bottom lip, trying to occupy his mind with _anything _that didn't concern the immediate situation, even though it was nearly impossible, like forgoing the choice to _breathe_.

"Dean," Caleb said, as Bobby made a sharp turn onto the correct street. "You doing okay?"

"No," Dean replied honestly. "I just want to get the show on the road, and see what this demon son of a bitch has to say, if anything."

It had crossed his mind that the demon had picked through the inner workings of Joshua's mind, and had correctly deduced that their hunter friend was worried about Sam, and had started asking around as to where he could be, and having people look out for him, but he tried not to think about any negatives that could crop up, and instead tried to steer his mind back to the wonderful news that _finally _a demon knew something about the demon _they _were looking for.

"I know," Caleb said, "but we have to make sure the information we get is reliable, and that he _actually_ admits to knowing Yellow-Eyes."

"I know."

Their interrogation would mean nothing if the demon didn't divulge some crucial facts that they were both looking for and hoping they would get. If the demon could reveal where Sam was being hidden, and how long they had been in the area, they would be able to form a plan of attack to get Sam back.

"While we're talking things over with this demon, and seeing what he knows," Bobby said, "it would probably be best if you stayed in the background, okay?"

"Fine."

Dean didn't care what role he played, as long as he could sit in on the interrogation, and find out once and for all if his brother was alive, dead, and where he was either way. Thinking of the horrifying reality that his brother may not have survived his abduction, wasn't conducive to staying as mentally calm as he could for the meet, so he tried to block that out until later.

"Thanks for this," Caleb said, when they finally reached Joshua's gun supply store, and had met the older hunter out front.

"No problem," he said honestly, as he met each of their eager, worried eyes. "I saw him walking across my store, and I figured I'd trap him and see what he knew."

"And then he started talking on his _own _about the demon?" Dean asked.

Joshua nodded. "Said something about his master not being too happy with the selection of kids he had chosen, and that he needed to spy on more family's to get stronger ones."

"Oh."

"Are you sure he was talking about the yellow-eyed one?" Bobby asked, trading uneasy glances with Caleb and Dean.

"Positive."

"Thanks," Caleb said again. "Truly appreciate this one."

"I want Sam back with you guys as much as you do, so of course. The demon's in the back room, by the way."

"Thanks."

Stepping into the storage area where the demon was being held, Caleb tried to hold in the intense anger and contempt he felt for the demon, as he tried to simply focus on the task at hand: determining where Sam was, and if this demon had any knowledge of what happened, as Joshua seemed to think.

As Joshua had told them, the demon was bound tight under a constricting Devils Trap. Lifting its head up, it smirked evilly at them, as it watched Dean and the two adults enter the room.

"Come for a little chat?" it taunted cruelly.

"Something like that," Caleb replied, as he gripped the silver knife behind his back.

"Why don't you tell us what you know?" Bobby suggested coolly, while Dean quietly retreated to a corner where he would be out of the way, but could still hear and see what was going on.

"Why don't _you _all go to hell?" the demon shot back, as though this was a silly war of words that he was engaging in with the seasoned hunters, and not a matter of life and death, at least for Sam.

"Been there, done that," Bobby said, with a forced calmness about him. "Didn't really work for me, if you know what I mean."

"This isn't a game," Caleb said, stepping in front of Bobby, and bending down to the demon's level, but was careful to avoid stepping over the salt line that Joshua had laid down. "Tell us what you know about Yellow-Eyes. Now!"

"Screw you. You're going to have to do better than that-" at that moment, Caleb dipped the knife into a combination of salt and holy water, and plunged the knife into the knee. "You," the demon said, through gritted teeth. "You son of a _bitch_!"

"You tell me where Sam is now!" Caleb shouted. "Or so help me we'll do this until you are _nothing_."

"Prove it-"

"This isn't a game!" Caleb said. "You said something to our friend about Yellow-Eyes. What did you say?" he demanded.

"None of your business!"

"Next one's going in the heart," Caleb warned, as he plunged the knife into the other knee. "Tell me now!"

Sputtering and coughing, the demon looked like nothing would please him more than to see Caleb die a slow and painful death, as he writhed in his chair from the agony he was undoubtedly experiencing from the combined salt and water.

"Tell us," Bobby said, "or we start getting nasty."

"Gonna stab me with more gunk?"

"No, but maybe send you straight back to hell," Bobby said, with his eyebrows raised.

With that, he started reciting one of the exorcism rituals he had long ago memorized.

"Alright! Alright!" the demon panted. "I'll talk—I'll talk."

"Tell us," Caleb said. "What do you know about Yellow-Eyes. Where's Sam?"

"He wants kids-"

"To be a part of his stupid war. We know," Caleb replied testily. "What _else_?"

"The kids he got, they're not strong enough to perform. He's looking for new ones. Some he's keeping, but most of them, he's going to dispose of."

"Who?"

"Not Sam. He's his prized possession, the strongest one, or so he thinks, but the kid's too scared to even pick up a knife, but he wants him around so he's been training him."

"Where?"

"I don't know-"

All it took was for Bobby to start reading, before the demon gave in again.

"A field. Up in the interstate. Near the factory plant."


	12. Chapter 12

"Do you think the demon was telling the truth?" Dean asked, almost afraid to voice that question, as the three of them quickly abandoned Joshua's shop in favor of speeding off the find the field in question, that Sam was reportedly being kept in.

It was the first solid lead that they had been fortunate enough to get in the week since Sam had gone missing from his school field trip. If the demon was telling the truth, it would mean that they were only minutes from finding the field, and finding the demon (or _demons_) responsible for the atrocious act.

"The demon could have spouted out anything if it meant that we would leave it alone," Bobby replied honestly from the front seat. "But I think in this case it _was_."

All the facts of what they knew about Yellow-Eyes matched up too quickly with what the demon had been telling them. It wasn't a perfect lead, but it was the only concrete one that they had had in quite some time, as they passed quickly through the highway, desperate to get off it and find the factory plant, and then the field that was supposed to be beside it.

"I hope so."

It would be too discouraging otherwise, as Dean tried to calm himself down with the knowledge that, according to the demon, Sam was alive. If that was true, it would meant everything to his frantic and desperate family, and only urge them on in their search for him.

Somehow, by some miracle, the demon had thought Sam could be of use to him, and had apparently taken full advantage of him, as a result. It didn't matter anymore, not as long as it meant that Sam was alive, that he was waiting for his family to rescue him from the hell that he had been going through.

"Either way, we'll find him," Caleb said, reaching behind him to squeeze Dean's knee. "You _know _we will."

"I know."

Resting his hand on his chin, he tried to let Caleb's soothing words sink in. It was the only source of comfort that he had at the moment, as Bobby smoothly made an exit off the freeway, near where the demon claimed a factory plant was, and where the accompanying field should be.

"Look out for that plant," Bobby said.

"I know."

Peeling his eyes for any sign of the illusive factory, Dean finally spotted a billowing cloud of smoke somewhere up ahead, as he pointed it out to the two adults in the front seat.

"That's it," Caleb said, nodding. "Good job. Now all we have to do is look for some land around here that might look it might house some demons and a kid."

"Shouldn't be too hard," Bobby said dryly.

It was mentally exhausting work as Dean peeled his eyes for any sign of land that the demon had described to them. It had crossed his mind more than once that the demon might have been leading them on a wild goose chase, but those thoughts weren't entirely helpful in aiding him in his desperate search. Trying to control his frantic breathing, Dean rested his head against the cold window as his weary eyes searched for any sign of the field.

"There," Caleb said, as Bobby pulled up alongside the curb.

The field that sprawled out before them, was immense. A thick forest bordered each side of the secure place, as Dean and the two others slowly climbed out the car, eyes and ears high on alert for anything out the ordinary, as they stepped over the invisible barrier that separated them from safety, and the one that was plunging them directly into danger.

"Guns out," Caleb quietly reminded them, as he checked the rounds in his handgun. "Dean, make sure-"

"I know," Dean said, as he made sure he was handling the gun the proper way. "Where do we go?"

There was so much land to cover that it seemed impossible they would even make headway before the last rays of sun disappeared over those thick trees. Shivering slightly out of sheer adrenaline, Dean drew his arms tightly around each other, as he looked into every nook and cranny of the field, hoping that, at least if it didn't lead him _to _Sam, it might hold crucial evidence as to his whereabouts.

"Peel off into the trees," Bobby said, "and stay together."

With land that big, Dean knew the demon was probably waiting for them to split up so he could pick them off separately. Fat chance. It would be sorely disappointed when it realized that they had figured out its game, and had stuck close together.

"Look for any evidence that the demon's been here," Caleb whispered, trying to keep his voice down in case the demons could hear them.

Dean nodded, mindful of everything that his boots came in contact with, as he bent down to examine something of question. "A knife."

Under his boot, he had stepped on a dagger. One that had blood caked all over it, as he swallowed back the roll of vomit that was rapidly circulating in his throat. There was no way to tell if it was Sam's blood, or someone else's.

"Let me see," Bobby said, stepping foreword to examine it. "That's fresh blood."

"It _is_?"

"Yeah."

"It's okay," Caleb whispered, drawing Dean close to him. "We'll find him. We're so close, and we'll get there."

Dean nodded shakily, trying to halt as many of the tears as he possibly could. Just the thought that there was fresh blood on that knife, was enough to make his head spin in a blind panic, but he tried to control those thoughts for his own mental well being.

Mindful of the setting sun, he stuck close to his guardian's side, determined not to be separated from them by the approaching darkness.

"You boys," a voice from behind them said. "You never learn your lesson."


	13. Chapter 13

It wasn't the demon they were looking for—that would have been too easy—in an effort to cover its tracks, and protect itself from what he _knew _to be a vengeful and protective family out for revenge, and of a desperate need to find their lost Sammy, it had sent a messenger in its place to do the dirty work _for_ him.

This demon stood a few feet from them, silently weighing the intelligence of attempting to attack all three of them at once. Obviously, he figured, he would have an easier time going after Dean, because after a second, he shifted his weight slightly to the left where Dean was standing next to Caleb.

Watching his every move with razor-sharp eyes, Caleb moved at the exact same time, and blocked Dean from his view when he stood in front of him, making sure that Dean was protected from potential harm.

It was a dance that both of them performed very well the next several seconds, as each of them sussed the other out, determining with one glance, one look, the others strengths and weaknesses. It was apparent that they had caught _this _demon off guard.

Three of them.

One of him.

The battle would be easily won.

Only _he _wouldn't be coming out of it in one piece, and would instead be taking an express trip downstairs to meet a very angry boss.

"Where's Sam?" Bobby demanded, after a few seconds of the tense showdown.

"That's none of your concern anymore."

"Like hell it is!" Dean shouted angrily from behind Caleb's arm.

"Dean!" Caleb whispered. "Enough. Look," he said, turning back to the demon, as he clutched an iron pipe behind his back. "We can end this easily, or we can end this the hard way-"

"My master instructed me to kill all three of you on sight, but if you walk away now, I'll tell him it was only a couple of stragglers that lost their way."

It was obvious the demon was scared—he was overpowered, and he knew it. Even without Dean helping them if they kept him from the big fight, Bobby and Caleb together, were lethal, and the demon was bright enough to at least realize that, as he tried every which way to negotiate out of a physical confrontation.

"Your _master_?" Dean said, not being able to restrain himself, and torn between a morbid curiosity, and just natural curiousness.

"My father," he said, bowing his head in reverence for the father (and master) that he served, that he had been created by.

"Your _father_?" Dean laughed, he couldn't help it. "Well, sorry to say," he said, his tone deadening with each syllable he uttered, as he tried to move recklessly around Caleb, but was blocked by the restraining arm he held out, barring his intended path. "But you have _the _most dysfunctional family I have _ever _heard of."

That did it.

Loyal to a fault, and suicidal as a result, the demon lunged foreword, intent on making sure that Dean, no doubt, paid for his careless comment against his beloved master. With lightening fast reflexes that only something _inhuman _could possess, it attempted a quick way around Caleb.

Reacting swiftly with his own reflexes that had been born out of _years _of working out, and the even more strenuous job of hunting, Caleb charged foreword while Bobby immediately shoved Dean behind him, so there would be two people in front of him.

"You really want to die, don't you," Caleb snarled, as he pulled the pipe out from behind his back, and used it as his weapon of defense against the revenge-crazed demon, as it clawed and punched at Caleb, like a toddler on a rampage.

"No one!" he yelled, "no one says a _word _against my father—especially the people that want to destroy him!" Reacting on primal anger, he aimed a well-placed punch at Caleb, but Caleb swiftly dodged around it, as he used that time to plunge the pipe directly in the stomach.

It downed the demon—pure iron had always been a well—known weapon against demons of any kind, and this one was no exception, as it immediately evacuated from its host's body to make a side trip downstairs.

"Are you okay?" Caleb asked, turning back to a stunned frozen Dean.

"Y—yeah," Dean answered shakily, as he crept out from behind Bobby's protective stance, and knelt down by the victim. It was a guy, mid to late teens, with probably his entire life ahead of him, but because of the actions of another, it had been prematurely ended.

A demon had ended any of his hopes and aspirations.

Had taken an innocent soul away from his family.

"It had to be done," Caleb said, squeezing Dean's shoulder reassuringly. "I'm sorry for him, though, and I'm sorry that _you _had to see it."

"It was my fault—I shouldn't have provoked him."

"You couldn't have known," Bobby said gruffly, as he came to stand beside the fractured teen. "It's happened to the best of us, kid."

And it _had—_even though they always strove to save as many of the victims as they possibly could, sometimes there was simply no getting around the fact that they couldn't always save them, that someone _sometimes _paid the ultimate price for getting entangled in the complicated web of the supernatural.

It was clear that it still bothered Dean, as he bent down to further inspect him. When he touched the teen's arm, and it moved, Dean jumped back. It had been the last thing he had expected, and looking at him now, he realized that the poor kid was still alive, had still miraculously survived the deep stab wound that Caleb had inflicted in self-defense against the demon possessing him.

"Help-" the man gurgled, his eyes rotating wildly in his head, before coming to focus on the people in front of him. "Help me," he begged, his crystal-blue eyes shining with tears of agony as he blinked rapidly.

"You're going to be okay," Caleb said, bending down to feel his pulse, and was disheartened to see that it was getting weaker and weaker by the second. "Take it slow, okay? Try to breathe slow."

"Where is he?" Bobby asked quietly, coming up close to the fallen teen.

"Bobby-" Caleb began, shaking his head.

Now was _not _the time to interrogate this poor, dying kid about Sam and his possible location. Even though Caleb would have given his right arm to have known where he was, he tried to imagine this being Sam or Dean, and he couldn't imagine grilling them for information when they were minutes from death's door.

"He's—the forest," the man said, gasping softly for breath. "The demons—want to make sure he's—kept—kept hidden from—from you."

"Where?" Bobby asked. "Where exactly."

"S—split be—between the trees. A m—mile from here. G—go straight. A—and you—you'll se—see it."

"How many demons?"

"F—five or s—six."

"That's enough," Caleb said, looking at Bobby. "It's going to be alright," Caleb said, turning his attention back to the kid.

"F—for s—so long, I—I was a—a p—prisoner inside m—my own h—head. I c—could see e—everything t—that was h—happening."

"Shh," Caleb said soothingly, as he intertwined their hands together. "It's going to be okay. Try not to talk, okay?"

It was the comfort that this kid needed right then. They had gotten the information they had needed from the kid, and now all Caleb was interested in doing was making sure he was safe in his final moments, and could feel that in everything Caleb did or said to him.

"M—my family," he said, as thick tears poured down his face. "T—they don't k—know."

"They'll be okay," Caleb promised him. "They won't come for them."

There was no way Caleb could make such a promise, but he would have said anything if it released one less worry from the kid's mind. As his breathing slowed, and his grip on Caleb's hand lessened, Caleb tried to reign in the enormous amount of guilt that he felt for doing this to the poor teen.

He hadn't asked for it.

Hadn't asked for a demon to possess him, and then be killed for something he had had no control over. Scrubbing a hand over his face and letting it rest their momentarily, Caleb paused before standing up, and looking back at Dean and Bobby.

"Let's go."

They had already wasted too much time in finding Sam. At any point they could be seen, and the demon could be tipped off to their presence there, and then their entire trip would have gone to waste, and they would be back at square one again.

For several minutes they walked in silence. Each absorbed in his own thoughts, as they carefully stepped over well—concealed fallen logs, and low—hanging branches. Each hidden tree trunk could be a threat, each ditch or embankment could be a hideout for the demons, who would be waiting to spring the second they detected their presence.

"Careful," Caleb warned, looking back at Dean. "And stay close to me, bud."

"I know," Dean said, as he hurried up to Caleb's side. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Caleb assured him. "I'm sorry that you had to me do that."

"He was about to kill you," Dean said. "It's okay."

"Alright," Caleb replied, as he pulled him against his side, before refocusing on their search efforts.

"He said about a mile," Bobby pointed out. "We're close to hitting that mark."

"Okay."

"And look for the break between the trees," Dean said, remembering the kid's words to Caleb.

"Okay."

* * *

There was some commotion. Sam just didn't know what, as he looked anxiously around at his demonic captors. YED had gone out earlier that day in search of more victims to bring back. The other ones he had slaughtered in a brutal display, as he forced Sam to watch. Part of his punishment for not training as hard or as accurately as he would have liked.

"I need some water," Sam said, as a demon passed by him.

"Too bad," came the reply, as though it were _his _fault their leader had bowed out for the day.

Sam, personally, rejoiced. It was always less tense when he wasn't around. The demons weren't as terrifying when they weren't worried about pleasing their sadistic master. But being tied to the pole, was wearing on Sam, as he tried to find any excuse to be removed from it, as he glanced around at the sun that had long since fallen behind the tree cover, leaving little sunlight left to see with.

"Can I use the bathroom-"

At that moment, he got the sweetest sight of his young life. The demons had all scattered, some more brazen than others, attempted to fight back, as his family emerged from the forest that had been shielded by the trees.

As he watched anxiously, he saw most of the demons go down without a minute, as Bobby and Caleb worked together in making sure they downed the demons one by one. Dean, he could see, had hung back, clearly following strict orders not to get directly involved with the fight, but to stay close to them.

It only took a few minutes for all of them to be brought out of their host's bodies. Either by choice, or by force when they realized the bodies were useless to them at the moment, or out of fear.

Either way they were gone.

"Hey, Sammy," Caleb said, as he bent down in front of him. "You're a little stuck, aren't you, tiger?" he said, using his toddler nickname that Sam used to love.

"Yes," Sam said, then he began to cry.

It had been almost a solid weak of being strong, of trying to fight, and he was done. As Caleb paused a moment to run his hand down Sam's face in a comforting motion, he leaned behind him next to undo the ropes that had been binding his hands behind him.

Once his hands were finally free from their bonds, Sam wasted no time in catapulting himself into Caleb's arms, as he sobbed into his shirt.

"It's okay," Caleb soothed, his own voice breaking out of sheer _relief. _"It's going to be okay, Sammy boy," he said, using another more recent nickname for him.

"I want to go home," Sam cried, as he fisted Caleb's shirt in his unbreakable grip. He was absolutely shaking from head to foot with both exposure to the elements, and fear. "I'm scared."

"It's okay," Caleb continued to say. "You're safe now. I got you. No one else is getting you, I promise."

As a single tear slid down his cheek, Caleb hugged him close. Seeing him bound like that, seeing all the demonic babysitters that the demon had employed to watch him, it had all been too much for Caleb, who once he had been assured that Sam was fine, almost lost it.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean said, kneeling down next to Caleb.

"Dean," Sam cried, as he removed himself from Caleb's arms, and went straight into his brother's.

"You ready to go home?"

"Yes!"


	14. Chapter 14

They wanted to get out of the area as fast as humanely possible. It was just too horrifying to imagine spending one more second in Missouri, or anywhere near it, and risk the demon catching up to them. But the guys knew they had done massive damage to his numbers. Most of his men were dead, and they had rescued his hostage.

Not that it would be difficult for the demon to find them once it had gotten its bearings, but they wanted to make sure they made it as difficult as possible for him. So as Sam slept soundly, for the first time in days, in the backseat of the car, Caleb and Bobby got on the nearest freeway back toward South Dakota.

Going back to Minnesota was out for the moment—too risky—too dangerous when they were brutally reminded of how easy it had been for the demon to snatch Sam up while he had been on a school trip. The safe house that Bobby had allotted to them, was still up and running, and would prove to be a blessing again, as they used it to regroup after the devastating events of the last several days.

"How's he doing?" Caleb asked quietly, as he shifted his torso around slightly to look back at Dean, who obviously had chosen to stay in the backseat with Sam to keep protective watch over him.

"Okay. Still sleeping," Dean said quietly, scrubbing a hand over his face. An obvious show of exhaustion, but there was no way he was falling asleep until they had reached the safety of the safe house.

It was the only place that they had to go where they could be assured that they would _all _be a hundred percent safe against any possible demonic threats. As Dean laid his head back against the cool leather seat, he tried to breathe through the adrenaline that was still coursing through his veins.

It was over.

For now.

His brother was safe, and he was alive.

They weren't naïve enough to believe that the demon wouldn't try to mount another attack, but at least this time, they would be better prepared against that horrible truth. Never again would they be so careless, even though they had had no idea that something like that would happen.

"You should try, too," Caleb instructed softly so he wouldn't wake Sam up.

"I will—once we get back to the safe house."

"That's still a few hours, bud."

"I know."

Even though Dean was exhausted from all of the actions that he had had that day, and could feel himself slipping into that blissful other world of unconsciousness, he fought it as hard as he could, believing that he needed to be awake in order to make sure his brother was still kept safe, even though he had no doubt that his family would keep him safe now.

"I'll wake you up if anything happens," Caleb promised, catching a glance of just how tired Dean was, as he fought a losing battle with the rain man. "Just _sleep_, dude. You earned it."

Dean nodded, not able to argue with that kind of logic, as he leaned down further in his seat, and turned his head to the side, hoping that the adrenaline that was still sitting in his veins, would allow him that peaceful oblivion.

It must have.

Within minutes of closing his eyes and almost _feeling _himself go to sleep, he was waking up again. This time, when he awoke, there was none of the fear or the confusion as to where his brother was. Now, all he had to do was look beside him, and see that his brother was still asleep, obviously reclaiming all the lost sleep that he sorely lacked in the last several days.

"Where are we?" Dean asked, his voice still deeply in the throes of sleep, as he heaved a deep yawn.

"About twenty minutes from the safe house," Bobby said. "You woke up just in time."

"Good."

Now that he was properly awake, Dean could definitely see that they were close to the safe house. It was a well—concealed home that was surrounded by a thick, protected forest. Inside, pure iron fixtures were built on every available surface. Holy water ran in the wells, and a full supply storage closet of weapons was readily available to them.

It was also ranch-style so they were all on one floor, as opposed to a two-story home like Dean and Sam had been accustomed to most of their lives. It gave them an added sense of security in a world that was constantly changing and shifting around them.

Especially recently with Sammy's kidnapping, and miraculous retrieval. At that point in their lives, the closeness would prove to be a blessing to two kids who had gone through more loss and upset than most people twice their age.

Caleb hoped that it would calm down now. That if they stayed with Bobby at the safe house until the demon was gone for good, they could hopefully return to Minnesota where the boys were familiar and comfortable with, and resume their lives as best they could.

But not until it was safe.

Caleb wasn't making _that _mistake again—he had jumped the gun before in returning to Minnesota when the threats (and the nightmares Sam had been having), had seemed to go away. Right after that was when the demon had made his next move in taking him.

No.

He would wait until the demon was gone. Exorcised or _really _dead if he ever found a way to accomplish that impossible dream.

"We're here," Caleb whispered, once they had finally pulled into the secluded (and safe) dirt driveway. It didn't look like much from the outside, but inside Caleb knew that this house stored everything in its ancient walls that could protect the boys from any further harm, and that was his and Bobby's goal.

"Okay," Dean said, stretching out the kinks in his back from being in one position for too long. "What about Sam?" he asked, glancing over at his comatose little brother with a small, uncertain smile on his face.

"I'll get him," Caleb whispered. "Can you walk?" He had noticed how stiff Dean was as he prepared to get out.

"Yeah."

"Good," Bobby said with a rare, teasing grin on his face. "Because I ain't carrying you in."

"I didn't ask you to, old man," Dean retorted teasingly, as he finally got out of the car into the reasonably warm night air.

As Caleb opened the door on Sam's side, he noticed that Dean hung back, clearly not willing to take his eyes off his brother for any amount of time, even if he was perfectly safe now, Dean was still clearly freaked about what happened to his him.

"Sammy," Caleb whispered, running his hand through the boy's hair. "Time to wake up, buddy."

It took a couple gentle shakes of his shoulder, before Sam finally awakened. "Where are we?" he asked, blinking his eyes blearily, as he finally focused his gaze on his gentle, concerned guardian.

"We're at the safe house. We just got here."

"Okay."

Straightening up with some effort, Sam finally got out of the car.

"You can go back to sleep when we get in," Caleb said, as they followed Bobby into the spacious foyer of the house, before veering off to the left into the kitchen, which was often their meeting place.

"So how long are we going to stay here?" Dean asked, as he finally took a seat at the island counter next to Caleb.

"As long as we need to this time," Caleb said. "No time limit, dude. I would prefer to take care of the demon _before _we think about going home."

There would be no point in returning to Minnesota with such a huge threat hanging over all their heads. They would only be setting themselves up for another disaster, and that was something they wanted to avoid at all costs.

"Yeah," Dean said thoughtfully. "If we go back now, we'll just be sitting ducks."

"And we can't afford to be anymore," Bobby said, as he came into the room. "Just for extra precautionary measures, I put salt down on every entrance to and from the house."

"Good," Caleb said, stifling a yawn. "Sammy, you about ready to go to bed, kiddo?" he asked gently.

Sam nodded shakily, chewing on the inside of his mouth. "First, can I have something to eat?"

Food had been scarce when he had been held in captivity by the demon. If they weren't withholding it from him deliberately, they had had no food to give him due to a literal _lack _of it.

"We're on it," Caleb said. "How much have you eaten the last week?"

It had only just dawned on Caleb how much skinnier Sam was than the last time he had seen him. Not that he expected the demons to treat him like royalty, it was still shocking to see such a marked difference in the small child.

"Not a lot," Sam quietly admitted. "Not when the demons either didn't have any food., or they just were being mean and didn't let me eat anything."

"Disgusting," Dean said, shaking his head. "Well, luckily you're back with us so we can give you all the food you need."

Sam tried to smile, but it fell flat. He was just too tired to think of much else but sleep, and having some delicious food to satisfy his starving stomach. When Caleb laid some food down in front of him, he wasted no time in diving in to enjoy the feast.

"Was that good?" Bobby asked with a chuckle.

"Yes," Sam nodded. "Thanks."

"Anytime."

When it came time for them to go bed, Sam didn't hesitate. The only issue he was concerned about, was sleeping on his own. Back home in Minnesota, he and Dean had always had separate bedrooms, but since his abduction was so fresh in his mind, the idea of sleeping by himself was too frightening.

"You want to camp out in my room?" Dean asked.

"Can I?"

"Sure."

Dean's bed was wide enough so that they could both sleep in it comfortably without a problem—Sam was grateful. Having Dean's or any of his guardian's presence would ensure that he would be able to sleep peacefully, knowing that he was protected from harm.

"Thanks, Dean," Sam said, as he snuggled up close to his brother.

"Anytime, bro."


	15. Chapter 15

**Epilogue**

There were so many questions that they had about Sam's kidnapping. What he went through, how he managed to stay alive all that time, and more importantly, what plans the demon had for him and the children like him. It was a terrifying situation to be in—at any time the demon could suddenly decide to launch another attack on their family, maybe even eliminate more of their teetering numbers.

Caleb was torn about what to do.

Should he push Sam for information about the demon?

Or should he respect what Sam had gone through had been traumatic enough, and to leave him alone until he was strong enough to talk on his own? It was impossible to know what the right course of action was, and it wasn't like there were guidebooks to refer to on how a parent or guardian should react when their child had been kidnapped by a demon.

The only way Caleb could _really _know was to listen to what Sam was subconsciously telling him. So far, he had been sleeping okay, and had even felt brave enough to want to try to sleep on his own, though normally he either ended up in Caleb's room, or in Dean's when the inevitable nightmares would follow him.

Luckily, he had gained back the weight that he had lost from when the demons had deprived him of food. That was one small spot in a world that was full of confusion and of uncertainty. The demon, so far, hadn't tried to make a move against their family, but Caleb knew better than to trust that.

Knowing how the demon operated, it was just _waiting _for an opportunity to strike when it thought their guards would all be down. Fat chance. They had learned from their previous mistakes, and wouldn't let them happen again. Too much was at stake, mainly Sam and Dean, and their precious lives.

"Sam seems to be better," Caleb commented.

"Yeah," Dean nodded, smiling slightly. "He is."

It had been a slow progression in the week or two since they had rescued him, but his brother was more resilient than most, and had managed to make steady progress in the time since he had been successfully recovered.

"I don't know if we should try to talk to him about it or not," Caleb said, shaking his head. "I don't want to push him into talking about something that's probably really upsetting for him."

"Yeah, I wanted to ask him," Dean said, as he dug into some pizza. "But I don't think he's ready, and if he is, he can talk to us. He knows that."

"I think we should remind him," Caleb said. "And let him know that we're always here to listen when he needs us."

"Yeah."

It would be up to Sam to make the first move this time. Last time they had pushed him to tell them about the YED visiting him, and right after that, he had been abducted. While they tried not to dwell on that fact, it definitely made them more aware of the potential consequences for forcing him to divulge information that he wasn't _ready _to share yet.

"Hi," Sam said, as he chose that moment to walk into the room. "What are you guys doing?"

"Cleaning out some guns," Caleb said. "Want to try it?"

"Sure."

Sam had never done that part of the job before—most of his exposure to the supernatural world had been the limited training sessions he had had with Caleb, and observing them as they worked. Doing this kind of thing, cleaning out the weapons, was a nice way to sort of _segue _back into the life.

"So, Sam," Caleb said, as Dean quietly showed him what to do. "We're not," he said, pointing at Dean and himself, "going to push you into telling us what happened."

"Okay," Sam said quietly, as he put on the pretense of focusing on the job he was doing, but in reality, he was weighing his options. He _wanted _to tell them what had happened to him while they had been searching for him, but he wasn't sure if it was safe yet.

"And whenever you _do _feel like you can tell us," Dean said, "we'll be here to listen."

"Absolutely," Caleb said.

"I want to tell you," Sam said. "I really do."

"We're all ears," Caleb promised.

"Okay," Sam said, taking a deep breath as he lunged into his story.

And for that one, brief moment, everything was perfect.

* * *

_This is the last chapter for this one. As the last paragraph suggests, more is to come. I have ideas for one in the general timeline I have established, and another one that is actually more of a prequel than anything else. Now the only battle will be to decide which one to post first! _

_Anyway, thank you to each and every one of you for reviewing this story and all the other's in my 'verse. Writing these series of stories has literally been one of the greatest experiences I have ever had the pleasure of having in writing something. I have fallen in love with these characters and the life that, in my opinion, Sam and Dean should have had. _

_Thank you for sticking with me!_

_-Casey_

_2/16/14_


End file.
